Patchwork
by Warviben
Summary: Harry Potter is being mistreated by the Dursleys. Everyone wrings their hands and bemoans the situation, but only one man has the fortitude to do something about it.
1. Chapter 1

PATCHWORK

by Warviben

**Summary: **Harry Potter is being mistreated by the Dursleys. Everyone wrings their hands and bemoans the situation, but only one man has the fortitude to do something about it.

**Note:** I have divided this fic into three parts for posting. I've tried to divide it into three roughly equal parts. The entire thing will be posted by the end of the week.

**Warnings:** Mentions of child abuse, though not a lot of detail is provided for the acts themselves. Also, later in this fic, there will be a scene of a sexual nature, as witnessed through the eyes of a child, so there will not be any graphic detail. There will, however be nudity, so be prepared to shield your eyes. This scene, and some naughty language that follows it, is the reason I've given this fic a T rating.

##########

Severus Snape sat alone in the dimly-lit bedroom, his head in his hands, the fingers of his hands gripping his hair so tightly that it hurt. Not that he noticed really. He'd killed her. He'd killed his Lily. Oh, he hadn't cast the killing blow, but he'd given the Dark Lord the incentive he'd needed to find her and kill her. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he gave vent silently to the grief and guilt that was tearing him apart inside. He'd done many things he regretted in his almost twenty-three years on this earth, but this – he wasn't sure how he would survive this. He wasn't convinced he wanted to.

Noises in the adjoining room caused him to raise his head. He'd been alone here in this safe house, waiting for the emergency meeting Dumbledore had called. He knew that the others who would be attending would look at him with suspicion. None of them had accepted him into their little clique, and this latest tragedy would be added to the rather large pile of evidence that Severus Snape couldn't be trusted. When Dumbledore wasn't present, many of the older, diehard Order members didn't hold back their opinions of him. But Severus Snape was used to being on the outside looking in, and he held most of them in just as much contempt as they held him. And right now, he held _himself _in much more contempt than any of _them _could possibly muster.

But he dealt with them best by not dealing with them except when strictly necessary, and he took his grief into the attached bathroom and closed the door quietly.

Moments later, Snape heard the bedroom door open, then the soft murmur of a male voice, speaking so low that Snape couldn't identify the speaker. A flare of magic which Severus felt in his hiding place, more whispered words, and then the sound of the door closing again.

Severus counted to one hundred before cracking the door open and peering into the poorly-lit room. It was empty, and Snape ventured out once again. He stopped, however, when he noticed the cot which the room now contained. It hadn't been here before, and Severus guessed that the missing armchair had been transfigured into something more useful.

Moving slowly, Severus crept to the edge of the cot and steeled himself to look down. He knew what he'd see when he did – the Potter child. Dumbledore had said he'd be bringing the baby here while arrangements were made for his care. In the brief time Snape had spoken with the Headmaster, Dumbledore had expressed his absolute astonishment and ignorance as to how a mere toddler had survived the killing curse thrown at him by the world's most powerful and maleficent wizard. Snape had hardly listened. What did he care for Potter's spawn or why he had survived when his Lily was dead?

Finally, Severus looked down into the cot and stared at a miniature James Potter, asleep with a thumb in his slack mouth. Severus took in the dark, curly hair that lay in unruly waves about the boy's head, the plump rosy cheeks, the blue pajamas adorned with snitches. He snorted contemptuously – so like his father.

As Snape stared down at the sleeping boy, anger began to grow inside of him, pushing the grief aside for a moment. This boy – this boy who slept as though he didn't have a care in the world – was the reason that Lily Evans no longer drew breath on this earth. She'd been killed because she'd stood between her son and a mad man bent on harming him. Severus had asked his Lord and Master to spare her, and the Dark Lord had agreed, though he'd given Severus a stern and lengthy lecture on choosing the women with whom he mated more wisely. Severus had spared nary a thought for the fact that James Potter was to be killed, and his son, too. He had some stupid fantasy in his head that he could go to her after, despite the rift in their friendship and his recent activities, and comfort her in her time of grief. He would hold her and soothe away her pain, then he would kiss her, and she would kiss him back, and she would realize that Severus had been meant for her all along. Severus knew it was unlikely, more like impossible, but the heart wants what it wants, and he couldn't stop himself from picturing what their life together might have been like.

But whatever ridiculous fantasy he had involving Lily had died along with her. As Severus looked down at her son, he wondered why was she dead and this mere slip of a boy was still here. Severus thought he could guess. He knew Lily well, after all. She'd never step aside and let the Dark Lord kill her husband and her son without a fight. She was a Gryffindor through and through. So either the Dark Lord had changed his mind and had just killed her outright, or she'd been given the choice to step aside and had declined. Severus thought both scenarios were equally likely.

Severus' anger threatened to overwhelm him, just as his grief had a short time ago. He was angry at himself, yes, for being the instrument of all this destruction. He was angry at the Dark Lord, for going back on his word, even though he knew that his Master kept promises only when it suited him. He was angry at James Potter, for stealing away his Lily, for being such an insufferable bastard in his teenage years, for impregnating Lily with this . . . scrawny foundling who was a threat to Voldemort's way of life. He was even a little angry at Lily, for choosing to protect this creature with her very life.

But mostly, he was angry at the tiny wight who lay sleeping below him, unaware that he was being blamed for the devastation of one man's life. Severus knew he could reach down into the cot, put his hands around that fragile neck, and squeeze. It wouldn't take a lot of pressure, and it likely wouldn't take long. This boy, who looked so like a man Severus had actively hated for half his life, did not deserve to live while its mother – Severus' only friend – lay cold and dead. His raised his arms and began to inch his hands slowly toward the boy, without even being aware that he was doing so. When he was an arm's length away from the boy, something startling happened.

The boy's eyes opened, and the greenest, most beautiful, most _familiar_ eyes looked up at Severus. The child blinked once, dragging impossibly long eyelashes over those porcelain cheeks, before opening his eyes once more and leaving them open. The boy stared at the man, and the man stared back down at the boy. Severus seemed to realize suddenly that he was reaching for the boy, moments before intent on doing him harm, and started to draw back in mortification. The boy, misconstruing the outstretched arms, raised his own arms toward Severus in a beseeching plea.

"Up," the boy said.

Startled that it could speak, Severus lowered his arms quickly and took a hurried step back. The boy – Harry, Snape remembered Dumbledore had called him – rolled onto his belly, hoisted himself to his hands and knees, then used his arms to push his bottom up, straightening his legs as he did so. Using the bars on the side of the cot, the toddler pulled himself upright, turned to Snape, and extended his arms again.

"Up."

Snape couldn't drag his gaze away from those green eyes. His Lily wasn't gone, he suddenly realized – she lived on inside this tiny creature, and she was looking out at him now, chastising him for his mistakes, yes, but also forgiving him, providing him with a means for atonement in the form of a stone's worth of boy-child with messy black hair.

Awkwardly, Snape reached out and lifted the boy into his arms. Harry came willingly, and the two stared at one another. Harry jammed his thumb into his mouth and sucked it busily while studying the tall man who held him now. "Mumma," he said around the thumb. "Mumma hee-yah?"

"No," Snape said, his voice rough with emotion. "Your mother isn't here. I'm afraid it is just me."

"Me," Harry repeated. He removed the thumb and used the slippery appendage to point at his own forehead. "Owie."

Severus shifted the boy so he could move the thick, soft hair aside. Under the fringe, on the forehead above his right eye, there stood an angry, red welt, carved into the skin in the shape of a lightning bolt. It was obvious to Snape's practiced eye that this mark hadn't been left by any light spell. So the Dark Lord had attempted to curse this little imp and something had happened, something strong enough to mar the perfect skin with an ugly, likely permanent, scar, but not strong enough to kill the boy, as intended.

As Severus looked down into the angelic face, he wondered what type of person could look at this picture of perfection and cast a killing curse at it. That took a special kind of evil, Snape knew, and he held the boy a little tighter, suddenly pleased that he hadn't followed his mother into the afterlife.

"Tiss owie," Harry said.

"I'm sorry – what?" Severus asked.

"You tiss owie," Harry repeated, ducking his head toward Snape. "Make bettah."

Oh. The boy wanted him to kiss his pain away. Severus supposed he could try, though he wasn't sure he possessed the requisite "mother's magic" to make it work. Gently, being sure that Harry's thick hair covered the scar, he pressed his lips to the boy's wound.

"Better?" he asked.

Harry smiled, and that simple act transformed his already cute face into the realm of the angels. Severus felt his heart melting into a small hot pool in his chest.

"Bettah," Harry confirmed, shoving his thumb back into his mouth.

"That can't be sanitary," Severus offered.

"'Tary", the boy tried to repeat before dropping his head to Snape's chest, snuggling in just below his chin. Severus' large hand came up to cradle the back of the boy's head and hold him close, and his chin dropped down onto the boy's soft tresses. The tears he'd indulged in earlier came back to him now, and they dripped down his cheeks onto the boy's head. One of them ran down onto Harry's cheek, causing the boy to look up.

When he noticed Snape's tears, Harry asked, "Owie?"

Severus nodded, unable to speak.

"Me tiss," Harry offered. Suspecting that the hurt must be in the same place as the tears, Harry reached up and pressed his open mouth to Severus' cheek. "Me tiss bettah."

"Yes, you kissed it better. Thank you."

Harry settled against Severus' chest again, mouth working busily on his thumb, until the downy head popped up again. "Mumma hee-yah?" he asked again.

"No, Harry, your mummy isn't here," Severus said.

The door opened and Albus Dumbledore sailed into the room. "Ah good, Severus, you've met young Harry. Why don't you bring him out? We must discuss arrangements for him now."

"Albus, the scar – " Snape started.

"Is likely permanent," Dumbledore confirmed sadly. "Come. We have much to do."

##########

Snape was surprised by the lack of Order members invited to plot the future of the child some were already calling The Boy Who Lived. Said boy, currently wide awake and sitting on Severus Snape's lap, was busy with two paper cups, fitting them together, then taking them apart, then banging them vigorously on the table. He was blissfully unaware that his life was being planned out for him by the adults sitting around him.

Those adults included only Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, and Severus Snape.

"Harry has no family left on the Potter side," Dumbledore reported. "His grandparents on the Evans side are dead, but he does have a maternal aunt."

"She'd be a Muggle then?" Minerva asked.

"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed.

"Headmaster, you cannot mean Petunia Evans," Snape spoke up.

"Yes, although I believe she is now Petunia Dursley."

Snape was horrified. "I knew Petunia Evans when we were children. She is petty and cruel and was incredibly jealous of her sister's magic. Surely there must be somewhere else the boy can go."

"You were children, Severus. She has grown up, as have you," Dumbledore said with a pointed glance down at the child Severus was holding. "He is of her blood. Do you really think she will reject him because of some childhood jealousy?"

"Yes," Snape said. "I do."

Minerva followed this exchange with concern. "Surely there is someone else who would be willing to take him. Wouldn't he be better off staying in our world?"

"He is very famous in our world," Dumbledore countered, "for something he will not even remember. That can bring with it a certain kind of pressure. It is better that he grow up somewhere people will not idolize a mere boy for something he had no control over. But more importantly, I can use his blood relationship with Petunia to weave very powerful protections around their home. Also, the Dursleys have a boy only a little older than Harry here. He will grow up with his cousin."

"Have you spoken with Petunia about this? Asked her if she is willing to take him?" Snape asked. Given what he knew about Petunia, he would be surprised to learn that she would willingly take in her sister's child.

"There hasn't been time. I cannot believe that she would turn him away in his hour of need. Her sister has been killed. Her nephew is in need of a home. What kind of woman would she be if she turned him away?"

"Exactly my point. That's what I've been trying to impress upon you, Headmaster. She is _exactly _that kind of woman." He looked down at Harry. "I beg you to reconsider. There must be any number of families, _magical_ families, that would be willing to take him. I myself would be willing to take him." That slipped out there before Snape could really think it through, but as soon as he'd said it, Snape knew it was true.

"You, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, somewhat amused.

"Yes, well, I have something to atone for, do I not? What better way?"

The twinkle left Dumbledore's eyes and he said, more gently, "This is not the way. The blood wards are his best protection. You know that Voldemort will not stop until he has completed what he set out to do last night."

"But it appears that You Know Who has been vanquished," Minerva protested.

"And what evidence is there of that, Minerva?" Dumbledore challenged. "I personally do not believe he is gone forever. He has been . . . damaged, perhaps by what he attempted to do last night, but I do not believe that we have seen the last of Voldemort. When he does return, Harry will be in danger. I can construct wards around the Dursley home that Voldemort will not be able to penetrate while Harry lives there. I cannot do that without a blood bond. Harry will be safest behind those wards, and he will grow up among his family. No one else can offer him that."

Snape agreed that the Dark Lord was still out there, somewhere, and that he would one day return to make their lives miserable. He also believed that he could protect Harry from whatever might come his way. But he could see that Dumbledore had made up his mind, and there was no changing it. He held onto the boy in his lap a little tighter, knowing that his life would change drastically, in a bad way, in the next few days and feeling a tremendous amount of sympathy for him.

As he had been doing periodically, Harry looked up at Snape now and asked, "Mumma hee-yah?"

Snape ran a hand through the boy's unruly hair. "No, little one, Mumma is not here."

Harry's eyes filled with tears. He was getting tired, and he'd been waiting a very long time for his Mumma. When was she coming? And what about Daddy? "Dadda?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm sorry, Harry. Dadda's not coming either."

Harry dropped against Snape's chest and began to wail out his distress. He'd had enough.

Surprised and a little overwhelmed, Snape held the boy close, rubbing circles on his back and making what he hoped were soothing shushing noises.

"Here, Severus, let me take him." Minerva got up and came around the table. She attempted to take Harry off of Severus' lap, but Harry actually screamed and clutched onto Snape, trying to burrow himself into the man's robe. Minerva drew back, affronted.

"It's all right, Minerva," Severus soothed. "I don't mind."

He stood up, clutching the boy tightly against him, and he began to walk, jiggling the crying boy, though he knew not why. He spoke in a low, soothing voice, telling Harry that everything was going to be all right (though he really doubted it would be). After several minutes and several revolutions around the room, Harry's cries turned to sniffles and he fell asleep, his thumb in his mouth, gasping every so often as he lay in Severus' arms.

Dumbledore stood and approached the man and the boy. He stroked Harry's hair gently. "Will you be all right with him here, Severus? I must go and prepare the wards."

"Yes. We will be fine," Severus was surprised to admit. He'd had absolutely no experience with children this young, and he was amazed to find that he'd formed a bond with this particular child. And he didn't want to put this boy down, ever. He settled himself into a rocking chair and prepared to hold on to Harry until he awoke or someone took him away by force.

_##########_

Harry slept for a little over an hour, during which time Snape stared down at him, rocking the boy gently. When he awoke, Harry smiled sleepily up at him, and Snape lost his heart completely. He actually felt it leaving his body, being sucked up out of his chest and out through his eyes, which moistened in the process. Harry reached up with his tiny fingers and touched Snape's bottom lip. Snape captured his little hand and kissed it, then pressed his lips against the boy's palm and blew.

Tickled, Harry laughed, the sound coming from deep in his belly, making Snape feel even more like crying. That the boy could laugh, considering that he'd lost everything he treasured most in his life in the last few hours.

Harry squirmed until he was sitting in Snape's lap, and the two of them stared at each other. What now? Snape wondered.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Hungee," Harry agreed.

"Well, let's see what we can find, then."

##########

Severus spent the afternoon doing something he'd never done before – playing with a toddler. He found Harry to be a very engaging child – he was quick-witted and curious, with a vocabulary far beyond the average fifteen-month old (though Severus didn't know that – he assumed all children this age conversed in complete, multi-word sentences). He laughed often and was physically affectionate, snuggling with Severus or sitting in his lap, even kissing him. Harry seemed just as taken with Severus as the man was with the boy. Severus even managed to change a diaper successfully. Harry asked frequently for his Mumma, but he didn't cry again when Severus said "No," seemingly content, at least for now, to be with Severus.

When Dumbledore returned, Severus was not ready to let the boy go, and he spent many more fruitless minutes attempting to convince the old man that Petunia Dursley was not an appropriate guardian for the magical little boy. Dumbledore, having spent the last several hours constructing blood wards around the Dursley home in Surrey, heard his potions master out, but had no intention of changing his mind about the child's placement.

"It is time," Dumbledore finally said.

"Headmaster, please," Severus tried one more time, perilously close to begging, holding Harry just a little tighter against his chest.

"Severus, it is time," Dumbledore repeated. "We must return him to Godric's Hollow."

"Why?" Severus asked, appalled at the thought of Harry returning to the place where his parents had been killed.

Dumbledore sighed. He was tired, and he wanted this endless day over. "It is important for the stability of the wards that Harry go directly from the place of his mother's demise to the protection offered by her sister." Severus shivered when he realized just whose blood had gone into the creation of the wards. Dumbledore had taken no blood from Harry, of that Severus was sure. Which meant that he'd taken the blood from Lily's corpse. "There are spells that must be cast while Harry is in the presence of his mother." Seeing Severus' stricken look, Dumbledore said, "I know it isn't pleasant, Severus, but it must be done. Hagrid will then take the boy to Privet Drive. I will meet them there to cast the final protection spells, effectively sealing Harry within the wards."

"May I take him, Headmaster? May I take Harry to Godric's Hollow?"

Dumbledore smiled gently at Severus. "I think it would be easier on you if you took your leave of him here. Lily is there, Severus, and you do not need to see her that way."

Severus hugged Harry to his chest and turned away from the Headmaster. He kissed the boy's head. Dumbledore was right – Severus did not want to see the evidence of his treachery, any more than he wanted to let this boy go to relatives who were sure to dislike him. He looked down at the boy.

"I must say goodbye, Harry."

"Bye, Hawee," he repeated.

"You must go with the Headmaster now."

"You tum, too?"

"No, Harry, I can't come. I . . ." There was so much he wanted to say to the child, but Harry would understand none of it. He pulled the boy close and whispered in his ear. "I will never forget you. Should you ever need me, I will be there for you. I promise you this. On your mother's magic, I promise you this."

He smoothed the boys' hair down on his forehead and turned back to the Headmaster.

"Come, Harry," Dumbledore said kindly. "It is time for us to go."

Dumbledore reached out for the boy, but Harry turned away and hid his face in Severus' robe. "Harry, we must go," Dumbledore said firmly, and he took hold of the boy.

Harry began to cry. He did not want to go with the old man. He wanted to stay with the dark man and wait for his Mumma. The dark man had been nice to him and played with him, and he wanted to stay, so he curled his little fists around the dark fabric covering his new friend. But the old man was pulling him away. The volume of Harry's wails rose as his distress increased, and by the time Dumbledore pulled him forcefully from Severus' arms, Harry was outright screaming.

Severus wanted so badly to wrap his arms around the boy and apparate the hell out of here, but he put his faith and trust in Dumbledore and stood still while the sobbing boy clung to him, pulling his hair and breaking his heart. When Dumbledore finally wrenched the toddler away, Severus was crying as well.

"No!" Harry wailed as Dumbledore wrapped the struggling boy in a blanket, held him close to his chest, and apparated away.

Severus' arms, which had been stretched toward Harry in a futile attempt to stop him from leaving, dropped slowly to his side. "Harry!" he whispered, sobbing freely now. Gathering his robes around him, Severus turned and apparated out himself. There was a bottle of firewhiskey that he intended to put a serious dent in in an attempt to forget the horrible events of the last few hours.

##########

~three years later~

"Chief!" Firefighter Colum McAllister yelled into his communication device. "We've cleared the top floor and most of this floor. I'm just going to check the kitchen, and we should be good to go."

The smoke was thick here, but Fire Chief Roger Chandler could clearly see the outline of the door set in the wall under the stairs. "Make sure you check that cupboard. The homeowners said there's no basement, so just make sure the cupboard is cleared. Then check the kitchen and get out of here, and we'll put the water to her."

"No pets?" the firefighter asked as he made his way toward the cupboard door.

"None," the Chief confirmed. "And the homeowners have indicated that all family members have exited the premises."

"Door's locked," McAllister said, tugging on the handle. He removed his axe from the holster at his side and struck the knob a solid blow, separating the knob from the door. He swung the door open and peered inside.

"Jesus Christ, Chief!" he called. "There's a little boy in here!" Then softer, "Hey there, little man. Come on out of there now."

"Is he all right?" Chief Chandler asked, approaching them quickly.

McAllister's top half disappeared inside the cupboard, and he returned with a tiny, coughing child in his arms.

"Get him outside!" Chief Chandler ordered. "I'll clear the kitchen."

As McAllister made his way toward the front door, Chandler heard him mutter, "Who the hell locks a little boy in a cupboard when their house is on fire?"

##########

Snape yawned discretely behind his hand and shifted his bum in the very hard chair. They'd been assembled here at Grimmauld Place, waiting for the Headmaster, for what felt like forever. He'd been summoned in the middle of a potion, which was now ruined, and he was grumpy (grumpier than usual) as a result. Dumbledore had given no indication what the emergency was, or why they'd been summoned immediately, but that was certainly not unusual. The man thrived on holding all the cards.

"Minerva, have you any idea why we are here?" he asked.

"No, Severus. I know nothing more than I did ten minutes ago when you asked me."

Severus sighed and drummed his fingers on the table. If Dumbledore wasn't here in five minutes, he was going back to Hogwarts. As soon as he'd completed this thought, Severus snorted internally. Who was he kidding? He and everyone else in this room toed Dumbledore's line without any second thoughts. And why, he wondered? What had the man done to inspire such confidence in his followers?

Snape was interrupted from his musings by the man himself. Everyone fidgeted in their chairs and turned to their intrepid leader as a harried-looking Headmaster entered the kitchen. He accepted the cup of tea pushed at him by Minerva with a silent and tired smile.

Dumbledore sipped the tea before saying, "We've had an incident in Surrey."

Snape sat up straighter in his chair, his attention solely on Dumbledore now. Surrey. Harry. _Hurry up, old man_. "Is Harry all right?" Severus had to ask.

Dumbledore sighed. "He is . . . fine," and Severus couldn't help but notice the hesitation. "The Dursleys had a small house fire this evening. The fire appeared to have started in the sitting room, perhaps as the result of electricity and Christmas decorations. I cannot explain to you any more than that." Dumbledore had never understood electricity and couldn't begin to explain how it could cause a fire. He took it as read that it could.

"Firefighters responded promptly to the scene," Dumbledore continued. "When they arrived, the Dursleys had exited the premises and were waiting in their car by the curb. They encountered a house filled with thick smoke."

"_The Dursleys_ had exited the premises?" Snape echoed. "What about Harry?"

"Firefighters clearing the home after knocking down the blaze discovered a child locked in the cupboard beneath the stairs." Dumbledore's announcement was met with shocked looks of disbelief.

"They put him beneath the stairs when there was a fire in their home?" Severus demanded.

"No. It appears that the cupboard beneath the stairs is where Harry usually slept. He was in the cupboard when the fire started," Dumbledore explained.

"They locked him in a cupboard?" Severus repeated, enunciating each word clearly, wanting everyone to understand the horrific nature of what they'd been told. "And they made no effort to retrieve him when their home was on fire? They took the time to drive their automobile to the curb, to ensure it was not damaged, but they left a four-year old boy locked in a cupboard?" Snape's voice rose until he was nearly shouting at the Headmaster.

"That is apparently what occurred," Dumbledore confirmed.

Snape stood up. "Where is he now?" he demanded, fully intent on retrieving Harry himself if he had to.

"He is currently at the local Muggle hospital being evaluated. The Muggle authorities have removed him temporarily from the Dursleys' custody due to concerns about their care of the boy. Mrs. Figg is at the hospital now and will alert me when the boy is left alone. Once he is, I will go and get him and bring him here."

"And what will happen to him then?" Minerva asked.

Snape sat back down, aware that everyone was looking at him. He had to force himself to stay in the chair, everything inside him screaming at him to go and get the boy NOW.

"That is what we are gathered here to decide," Dumbledore answered. "I have some ideas percolating in my brain. I hope by the time I get back to have some decisions made. And there is my summons from Arabella," he said, responding to a signal only he could here. "I will be back shortly with Harry, if everyone could just sit tight."

He stood up and left the room, leaving the rest of his soldiers to stare at each other in horror.

##########

They heard him before they saw him. As instructed, those present at the meeting had sat around the table, waiting for Dumbledore to return. When the floo flared in the next room, they could immediately hear the voice of a small child, saying over and over again, "No no no no no." The voice got louder until the Headmaster entered the room with a squirming child in his arms. He put the child on the floor, and Harry scurried to the corner, placed his back against the wall, and stood looking out at all of the gathered adults, obviously terrified.

"He is inconsolable," Dumbledore offered unnecessarily.

Severus got to his feet and slowly approached the frightened boy huddled in the corner. When he was several feet away, he dropped to his knees, then sat back on his heels. "Hello," he said softly. "Do you remember me? We met when you were just a wee baby." Severus sent his magic out towards the trembling child in soft waves, hoping in some visceral part of him that the little boy would remember it, remember _him_.

Harry stared at Severus for many seconds before launching himself at the man, throwing himself into his arms and burrowing into Severus' robe. Severus' arms folded around the boy, holding him close. Severus could feel the tiny body in his arms shaking, and he ran a hand soothingly over the boy's back. "Shhh," he crooned. "It's all right. You're safe now."

Severus stood up, bringing the boy with him when he did so. He turned to see that everyone else in the room was staring at him in disbelief. Ignoring their incredulous looks, he brought Harry to the table and sat down, settling the sniffling boy in his lap. Harry kept his face hidden from the others, pressed into the folds of Snape's voluminous robe.

Dumbledore smiled proudly at him and settled himself at the table. His smiled disappeared quickly as he began his tale. "I have reviewed the reports from the Muggle firefighters, as well as the doctor who treated Harry on an emergent basis at the hospital. It appears certain that the Dursleys left Harry in the cupboard, making no attempt to rescue him as they left the house after the fire was discovered. For this reason, authorities removed him from the custody of the Dursleys and took him to the hospital to be examined.

"The doctor examined Harry, and due to the fact that they suspected abuse, they took pictures, which they called x-rays, of his entire body. What they discovered is disturbing." Dumbledore withdrew several sheets of paper from an inner pocket of his robe. "Starting from the top: a hairline skull fracture, a fractured zygomatic bone, spiral fractures of both humerus, a fractured radius, four fractured digits on the left hand, and a fractured intermediate cuneiform, which is a bone in the right foot. This is in addition to multiple bruises over the body and several burns, mostly on the hands."

As Snape listened to this litany of injuries, he found himself gripping the boy more tightly. What had those horrid people done? Three years ago he'd been a perfectly healthy, perfectly happy baby. What he was holding in his lap now was a severely damaged and quite likely traumatized pre-schooler, who didn't seem much larger than the last time he'd held the boy in his arms.

"What are the local authorities doing now?" Minerva asked, her compassionate eyes resting on the boy in Snape's lap.

"They have begun legal proceedings to have Harry removed from the Dursley home. He is currently in emergency government custody and will be placed in a foster home while they investigate whether or not to file charges against the Dursleys."

"Surely we will intervene now and take the boy ourselves," Minerva exclaimed.

"I have thought this through carefully, and I have come to the conclusion that the safest place for Harry is back with the Dursleys."

"You must be joking!" Kingsley Shacklebolt nearly shouted. "Look at what they've done to him, Albus. You can't seriously be considering sending him back!"

The boy in Severus' arms flinched at this outburst, and Snape drew him closer, glaring at Kingsley.

"The wards are intact," Dumbledore told them. "I have checked them myself. Voldemort cannot get to Harry while he resides within those wards."

"But surely the danger posed to him by his family is, at this point, greater than the risk of Voldemort returning and harming him," Kingsley argued.

"Our most important objective is preserving Harry's life. He is safest within the wards, and he will be returned there. We have a significant amount of obliviating to perform. Kingsley, I could use your assistance with that. Minerva as well. Once that is taken care of, I intend to have a long and serious discussion with Petunia and Vernon Dursley about their care of the boy."

"Albus, please. You must reconsider," Minerva pleaded. "Next time, they may very well kill him."

Severus knew that arguing with the Headmaster was a pointless exercise, much as he agreed with the sentiment. "What would you have _me _do, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore looked at the boy in Severus' arms. Harry was now sleeping against his chest. "I think that's obvious, dear boy. You will stay here and care for Harry. You are the only one he feels safe with at the moment. When we have finished our respective tasks, I will return here for the boy and take him back to Surrey."

Snape stood up, cradling Harry carefully. He wanted them all out of here. He _needed _them gone. "Godspeed, then," he said, and he strode from the room.

##########

As soon as everyone had gone, Snape paced furiously up and down the room, cradling Harry in his arms as he did so. He marveled at how small the boy was. He didn't know a lot about children, but he would have expected Harry to have grown much more in the three years since he'd seen him last than he had. In addition to the physical abuse, had they been starving the boy as well? He nearly growled aloud as he thought of those people, those horrible, abusive people whom he would so like to hunt down and murder painfully. How _dare _they? How _could _they?

And Dumbledore wanted to send him back, into the very situation that had left the tiny child in his arms broken. He was going to have a "long and serious" discussion with those monsters? _That_ was supposed to help? How long would it be before Dumbledore was calling another emergency meeting, this time to inform them that Harry had been killed by those who were supposed to be caring for him? Given the litany of injuries, and the actions that had caused them, that outcome was all too likely.

He couldn't let this happen, not again. He'd argued for Harry to go somewhere else, _anywhere_ else, three years ago, but Dumbledore had disregarded opinions that didn't coincide with his own. He'd placed Harry in a dangerous situation despite warnings from someone who knew Petunia and her petty and jealous nature. Dumbledore's single-minded belief that he knew what was right, to the exclusion of all else, was going to get Harry killed.

Snape could not let that happen. This little creature lying in his arms was valuable to the cause, yes, but he was precious in himself. He was Lily's son, and he deserved so much more than daily suffering while being raised as a sacrifice for the good of the cause.

But what could he do? He knew that arguing with Dumbledore again would be pointless. He'd had that proven to him already. So what were his options? As he saw it, he only had one. He must take Harry and go, take him away somewhere where Dumbledore could not get his meddling hands on the boy.

But was he willing to give up life as he knew it for this boy? Because there was no doubt in his mind that if he followed this course, if he took Dumbledore's favorite pawn off the board, he could never come back. Dumbledore would hunt them down with everything at his disposal, and should he ever catch up with them, Snape would likely find himself in Azkaban. Was the child worth giving up his job, his home, his freedom?

Snape looked down at the boy, so battered and bruised. _Someone_ had to stand up for him, or he'd likely never see another birthday. Who better than Snape, who owed the Potters so much and who already had fallen in love with the little imp and who had sworn on Lily's magic to be there for him? Harry _was_ worth it – there was no need to spend any time figuring that out.

But he had to act quickly, before Dumbledore came back, to put as much time and distance between them as possible. Dumbledore had brought nothing with the boy – no clothes, no toys, nothing but the child and his medical records, which Dumbledore had left on the table. Snape snatched them up – they would be important for healing Harry's many injuries.

What else was there? He could think of many things he'd like to take with him, things that would be useful to them and things that he didn't want to think about living without. But that would mean going back to Hogwarts. Did he dare take that chance? Could he do that while carrying Harry? Wouldn't someone stop him, challenge him, ask him what he was doing with the child?

While he was thinking this through, Minerva returned, huffing angrily. "That man will _not_ listen to reason." She caught Severus' eye, and like the Head of House she'd been for many, many years, she sensed instantly that he was up to something. He looked quickly down at Harry, then back up at Minerva, and she somehow just knew what he was planning.

"Minerva," he said guiltily, though he tried to appear nonchalant. She'd caught him before he'd had a chance to don his perpetual mask of indifference.

"Do it, Severus," she urged, wasting no time explaining what "it" was. They both knew. "Do it now."

"There are things that I need from Hogwarts. Do I have time to get them?" he asked anxiously.

"You should, if you are quick. Albus still has many to obliviate. I got disgusted with what he was doing and refused to help any further. He doesn't know that I came back here. I will stay with Harry – you go get what you need and get back here as quickly as you can. I will then return to Hogwarts and let Albus believe I went directly there. He need not know that I saw you here or that we talked. But you must hurry. The sooner you get out of here, the better."

Snape immediately transferred the still-sleeping Harry into Minerva's arms. "He is so small," she whispered, stroking the boy's hair and kissing him on the forehead. "Go . We will be fine."

And Snape went.

##########

Snape returned as quickly as he could, fearful that Dumbledore would return in his absence. When he re-entered the sitting room at Grimmauld Place, though, Minerva was sitting with Harry, who was still sleeping. This surprised Snape and caused him to wonder if the hospital had drugged the boy, or if Dumbledore had done something to him. Well, he couldn't wonder about that now. In fact, it might make what he had to do easier.

Minerva stood, cradling Harry carefully in her arms. "You must go soon," she advised. "He could be back here at any time."

They transferred the sleeping boy from one pair of arms to another, and Minerva smoothed Harry's hair back from his forehead. "Take care of him, Severus. If you can, please keep in touch with me and let me know how you are doing."

"I will have to change my name, my appearance," Snape said.

"Well, that will make it easier, then. Perhaps you're a distant cousin who sends me a Christmas card and a letter every now and again. I would like to know that you are all right. You have my word as a witch that I will never tell Albus where you are or anything else about you that he might use to find you."

Severus stared at Minerva. He'd always liked the older witch and respected her and her abilities. He'd even come to think of her as a friend over the years they'd been teaching together. He smiled gratefully at her now, glad that he would be able to maintain this one small link to his previous life. "Thank you, Minerva. I will be sure and let you know when we are settled."

"You take care, Severus, of yourself and of Harry." Minerva reached up on her toes and kissed Severus on the cheek. "May the Gods be with you both."

"Thank you," Severus said, suddenly emotional. He stepped away from her, and without looking back, strode to the floo with Harry.

##########

Snape first visited Gringott's, cleaning out the contents of his vault. He'd swiped Harry's vault key from Dumbledore's office, and he thought about cleaning out the Potter vault as well, but decided against it. Harry's assets would be best protected here, and he could return to claim them when he was grown. He converted all of his own galleons to pounds, shrunk his few family heirlooms to fit in his pocket, and left the bank with his pockets bulging.

##########

Spinner's End was as depressing as it had been every other time he'd been here. Snape placed a sleeping Harry on the sofa and looked down at him, concerned. He'd been asleep for a very long time now. Could something be wrong? Snape ran very basic medical scans over the boy and was reassured that his vital signs were completely normal.

Working quickly, Snape cast glamours, first on himself, then on the sleeping child. He now had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, as did his son. His features were much more rugged looking, and he had an actual tan. He and Harry – _Jameson_ – even shared cleft chins. And most importantly, the boy no longer sported a highly-recognizable lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

Snape studied his own new face in the mirror, thinking it a significant improvement. He smiled and admired his straight, white teeth. When he was as happy as he was going to get with his appearance, he cast the charm to set the glamour permanently. He then did the same to Harry – _Jamie_, damn it – tweaking his charm to allow for growth over the years.

Looking around, Snape gathered up the few remaining things he wanted from his childhood home. He knew that coming back here would be too dangerous. Both of his masters – _former _masters – could be watching this place, waiting for him to return, and he knew it would be extremely foolish of him to do so. There wasn't much to take, and he shrunk it down and placed it with his other possessions.

Then he gathered Harry back up into his arms and returned to London. First stop, a Muggle forger introduced to him by Death Eater colleagues years ago. Here he obtained fake passports, fake insurance cards, and fake identification cards for both himself and Harry. He next visited a Muggle bank, where he deposited all of his pounds and obtained a safety deposit box for his family possessions.

And then he took Harry, and they left the wizarding world, for maybe the last time.

##########

Rafe Carnaby lay his sleeping son on one of the two beds in their newly-rented hotel room, sure now that Dumbledore had done something to the boy to induce this lengthy sleep. He hadn't pushed the issue while he'd been running errands and apparating from place to place, since it had made the job easier, but now he needed the boy awake. Before attempting to revive the sleeping child, Snape pulled out Harry Potter's medical records. He went down through the list as Dumbledore had recited it earlier:

_hairline skull fracture - Harry had been struck in the head forcefully, or perhaps he'd fallen from a height or down the stairs_

_fractured zygomatic bone - again, Harry had been struck in the face hard enough to fracture a cheekbone_

_spiral fractures of both humerus - this was a common injury in child abuse victims, Severus knew, and was caused by a forceful wrenching of the arm_

_fractured radius - Snape could only speculate as to how the boy had had his arm broken_

_four fractured digits on the left hand - the fractures were lined up horizontally, almost as though a hard, fairly thin object had been brought down on the tiny fingers, or as though they'd had a door slammed on them_

_fractured intermediate cuneiform - had a heavy weight fallen on the boy's foot, or had someone perhaps stomped on the foot?_

Severus found himself close to tears as he speculated what might have happened to the tiny child during his stay with his abominable relatives. It was all too easy to imagine the scenarios that might have caused the various injuries. Harry was so small and completely vulnerable and defenseless to the attentions of vicious adults. Severus Snape never would have succumbed to such a weakness, but apparently Rafe Carnaby was a different type of man because he found himself wiping at the stray tears as they slipped down his face.

Severus forced his attention back to the medical records. Aside from the multiple fractures, the doctor had chronicled several bruises over the boy's body and several burns, mostly on the hands. He picked up one of those hands now, so impossibly tiny in his own. The palm clearly showed two curved lines of red, angry skin, and Severus knew exactly what this was, because a young Severus Snape had suffered the very same injury, at the hands of his father. The boy's hand had been held to the burner on the cooker, until the flesh had seared. The burns had likely blistered and had definitely been incredibly painful, he knew from experience. The fact that Harry had not developed any type of infection or blood poisoning as a result was somewhat of a miracle. Scrutiny of the other hand revealed it had been subjected to the same treatment.

Fighting the desire to go to Surrey now and hex those child-abusing bastards until their hearts gave out from the sheer amount of pain he wanted to inflict, Severus instead cast a general healing spell over the boy, which should heal the bruises and what remained of the burns. He'd give Harry a salve later to eliminate the scarring on his hands. Then, holding his breath for whatever reaction he'd get when the boy woke, Severus intoned, "Finite incantatum."

_##########_

Harry's vibrant blue eyes fluttered open and stared up at Snape muzzily. Slowly, comprehension seemed to come into his eyes, and they widened with fear. Looking around frantically, Harry tried to scoot away from Snape on the bed, his eyes taking in the strange surroundings and the strange man standing so close. He was breathing quickly and heavily through pursed lips, and Snape thought he could see the small body trembling.

"It's all right," Snape soothed, staying where he was. "You're all right. I will not hurt you." He sent his magic out in gentle waves toward the boy. He knew that Harry couldn't recognize him with the glamour, but he hoped that the familiar feel of his magic would remind the boy that he could trust him. It seemed to work, because Harry's breathing slowed and quieted and he seemed to relax a little.

"Good," Snape approved. He sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to get too close. "How do you feel?"

Harry – Jamie – stared back at him but did not speak. Snape wondered if the child no longer spoke. He remembered back to the first time he'd met the toddler Harry Potter – he'd been energetic and curious and gregarious and talkative, miles removed from the child he saw before him now.

Well, it made sense for him to start with the basics. "Do you know your name?" he asked.

Harry did not answer.

Severus placed a hand against his own chest. "My name is Rafe Carnaby. What is your name?" Still no response. "Rafe," he repeated, pointing at himself. "Me." He pointed at Harry. "You . . ."

"Me boy," Harry said, then flinched visibly as though not able to believe he'd been so daring as to answer.

"Yes, you're a boy," Severus agreed. "What is your name?"

"Me boy," he repeated, pointing at himself as Severus had done.

Snape sighed. They'd apparently called him "boy". It was possible the child didn't even know his own name, which actually made things easier, he supposed. Severus pointed at himself again. "Rafe." This time, when he pointed at Harry, he said, "Jamie. You are Jamie."

"Me boy."

"No. You Jamie. Are you hungry, Jamie?"

This got no response at all, though Severus thought he detected interest in the boy's eyes. He crossed to the desk and rummaged around until he found a room service menu. He thought taking the boy down to the hotel's restaurant might be too overwhelming for him at present. "What do you like to eat, Jamie?"

**#####**

**A note here: As I was writing this, I found it difficult to keep referring to Harry as "Jamie." I caught myself using Harry so many times that I finally just decided that he's going to be Harry when he's being spoken **_**about **_**and Jamie when he's being spoken **_**to. **_**I hope that doesn't prove too confusing – they are the same person after all. The same will hold true for Severus Snape/Rafe Carnaby. Just wanted to clear that up before we went any further. Sorry for the interruption. Now where were we?**

**#####**

Unsurprisingly, Harry said nothing. "All right. We'll get a couple of different things until we know what you like." There were several children's items on the menu, and when Snape called down to the kitchen, he asked for a hot dog and chicken nuggets for Harry and a club sandwich for himself.

While they waited for the food to arrive, Severus turned the television set on and found a station showing children's cartoons. Harry seemed to perk up a little and take notice, so Severus sat with him on the bed and they watched in silence, Harry hugging his knees to his chest and resting against the pillows at the head of the bed, alternately watching Severus and the television set. Snape felt the probing eyes on him but didn't turn to look at Harry. He suspected he was being sized up, judged on his trustworthiness. In every aspect of his life, Severus Snape had repeatedly failed this test. But Rafe Carnaby would not.

Even if it was difficult. He held a vial out toward Harry. "I need you to drink this. It's not going to taste very good, but it will help you." He pressed the vial into the boy's hand.

Harry took it and looked down at it suspiciously. He brought it to his nose and sniffed, then wrinkled his little button nose comically. He looked up at Severus, his eyes saying "no," though he obviously didn't dare to voice his objection.

Severus would have liked to let this go, but the child needed the Skelegro – there was no Muggle equivalent that might go down easier that Severus could give him. He steeled himself to be the bad guy, just this once. "Jamie, you must drink it. All of it." Severus Snape had enough experience being intimidating that even at a reduced level, the boy was clearly afraid of him. He gulped once audibly, then put the vial to his lips and drank, slowly and reluctantly, until he'd emptied the vial. He couldn't keep the look of disgust from his face.

Severus took the vial away and replaced it with a glass of water. "Wash it down," he said softly.

Gratefully, Harry drained the contents of the glass. When Severus took it back, he placed his hand gently on the boy's head, pretended he didn't notice the involuntary flinching away, and said, "Good boy. Thank you."

When a knock sounded on the door, Severus opened it to allow the young man and his food cart into the room. After tipping him and seeing him back out, Severus pushed the cart over to the bed. "Jamie. The food is here."

The boy seemed to have problems pulling his eyes away from the television, and Severus thought briefly of turning the damned idiot box off. Then he figured, what the hell? Harry likely never was allowed the luxury of eating a meal while sitting on a bed and watching telly.

"Come and see, Jamie," he urged. "What would you like? Come on."

Slowly, Harry unwound and approached the food cart on his knees. He cast wary looks at Snape as he did so. Severus uncovered each of the dishes and told Harry what they were when he did so. "Hot dog and chips. Chicken. And chips. Which would you like to start with?'

Harry looked at each of the dishes, then up at Snape. Severus thought he looked overwhelmed by the simple task of choosing, so he helped. "Why don't you start with the chicken?" Severus removed that plate and set it on the bed next to Harry.

Hesitantly, Harry picked up a piece of chicken in his small fingers. Keeping his eyes on Severus, as though he expected the man to yank the food away at any moment or yell at him for his temerity, he brought the nugget to his mouth and began to nibble on it. When nothing awful happened, he began to eat with more determination. Snape smiled encouragingly and uncovered his own dinner and began to eat it.

Once Harry had eaten several of the nuggets, he started on the chips. Seeing this, Severus reached over and opened a packet of ketchup and squeezed it onto the plate. Harry stared at it as though he'd never seen such a thing, and Severus thought perhaps he had not. He took one of Harry's chips, dipped the end in the ketchup, and held it out to the boy. Harry took it, and with his eyes wide and completely focused on Severus, he put the chip into his mouth. Then those beautiful eyes closed in rapture as the boy savored the flavor. His eyes popped open again, and he began to attack the pile of chips with gusto, dipping each one into ketchup. When he returned to the nuggets, he began to drag them through the ketchup as well until the red substance had all but disappeared from his plate, which brought a mournful look to Harry's face. Noticing this, Severus reached over and opened a second packet, drawing a small smile of gratitude from the child.

Harry piled as much ketchup onto the next nugget as he could. Half-way to his mouth, though, he dropped the nugget, which hit him once in the chest, then on the leg, before bouncing three times across the counterpane, coming to rest in the middle of the white spread and leaving a trail of red splotches in its wake. Harry looked up at Severus, panic in his eyes, and said, "Oh." His breath was coming quicker again, and he was doing that strange breathing through his almost-closed mouth thing again that Severus was coming to recognize as a sign that the boy was on the verge of panic.

"It's all right, Jamie," he said. "We can clean that up."

"Oh," Harry said again, clearly still fearing the consequences of what he'd done. "Oh."

Severus stood up and tried not to react when Harry flinched away from him again. "I'll just get something to clean that up."

Severus went into the bathroom for a towel, which he wet and rubbed some hand soap into. He could clean more thoroughly with his wand later, but for now, this would do. He returned to find Harry still staring down at the offending stain until he cast a frightened glance at Severus, still not trusting the man's mild reaction.

Severus cleaned up the mess as best he could (which wasn't very well) then encouraged Harry to finish eating. Even more subdued now, Harry finished his meal carefully. Severus was about to ask the boy if he wanted the hot dog next when he noticed that the hot dog and the chips that were with it were no longer on the plate. Had Harry eaten them while he was in the loo getting the cleaning supplies? He must have done so quickly. Severus hoped he didn't have a belly ache later.

"Did you have enough to eat?" he asked.

Harry nodded and scooted back toward the headboard and turned his attention fully back to the television. Severus gathered up the dirty dishes and piled them on the cart, then pushed it into the hallway.

"We shall have to do some shopping tomorrow," Severus informed Harry when he returned. "You need clothes. We have no pajamas for you tonight, so you'll have to sleep in the clothes that you are wearing."

There was no response, which was not unexpected by now. But this time, Harry didn't respond because he was asleep. This surprised Severus, since the child had slept so much today already. Severus lifted the boy to place him under the covers and tucked him in. Without even thinking about it, he placed a kiss on the boy's forehead before turning down the lights.

##########

Severus began to unpack his suitcase. They would likely be here a few days while he figured out what to do next, and he didn't want to live out of a bag. He hung his shirts and trousers in the small cupboard then began stowing his underthings in the chest of drawers. When his clothes were put away, he unpacked the books, papers and potion ingredients and put them in the remaining drawers. When they were full and he still had a few things left out, he spotted the nightstand beside Harry's bed. It had a small drawer that should be large enough to hold the remainder.

When Severus opened the drawer, he found the hot dog and chips that had disappeared from Harry's plate earlier. The boy had hidden them here, likely unsure when his next meal might be coming. Severus sat on the edge of the bed, clutching his books to his chest. What had those people done to this child that left him timid and nearly silent and cowed? Was Snape capable of correcting the damage? He wasn't a nice man. Empathy and compassion did not come naturally to him. Harry was going to need support and attention and affection, and Severus sincerely doubted his ability to provide those things.

Before Severus let himself sink too far into despair, he grabbed himself by the figurative lapels and shook. He'd taken Harry out of his dangerous family situation and away from Dumbledore's clutches, and he was convinced that the boy would not survive if he was returned there now. He'd made the right decision, and now he had to live with the consequences. In the morning, he would look into the boy's mind and figure out exactly what his family had done to him. With that information, he could formulate a plan for how best to help Harry, to get back the child he'd met three years ago. He could do this, he told himself – he could be what Harry needed. He would not fail the child as he had failed the mother.

Severus removed the food from the drawer. He couldn't leave it there – it would attract insects and rodents. He had to make the boy believe somehow that food would come regularly and in whatever quantity he desired. Suddenly very tired, Severus decided to leave the rest of the unpacking for tomorrow and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

##########

A noise in the hallway woke Severus in the middle of the night. Not quite the middle: Snape groaned as he rolled over and looked at the bedside clock through one squinted eye. 2:11. Nothing good ever happened at 2:11 a.m.

Severus raised himself up enough to check on Harry in the other bed. Except that Harry wasn't in the other bed. Severus sat up quickly, scanning the room. No boy. Was he in the loo? Severus tossed back the covers and jumped out of bed. The bathroom was dark and unoccupied. Where on earth was he? The chain was still on the door – the boy was too short to have removed it without the use of a chair, but there was no sign that anything had been moved closer to the door.

Severus checked under both beds, then turned his attention to the cupboard. He opened the door, and relief flooded through him. Harry was there, curled up on the floor, sound asleep. Severus sighed, then dropped to his knees. He gathered the boy in his arms and placed him back in the bed.

##########

Harry was still wary of Severus and his surroundings when he woke the next morning. Severus kept an eye on the boy while he ate to make sure he didn't sneak any food into the drawer. When they were finished, he had Harry sit next to him on the bed. Knowing that explanations would be useless, Severus didn't bother trying to explain what he was about to do, and he just dove right in to the young mind of Harry Potter.

When he emerged, Severus was actually shaking with anger. What he'd witnessed in the boy's memories was enough to make him want to leave here, right now, and commit murder. Harry had been hit, frequently and with force, by both his aunt and his uncle. They didn't discriminate about where they hit the boy – in the face, in the head, in the arms, in the chest, on the bottom. He'd been kicked and pushed and thrown and stomped on and yes, his hand had been viciously and purposely slammed in a door. Vernon was the one that used the belt, for Harry's more "egregious" violations, on Harry's lower back and his bared buttocks.

Then there was the withholding of food, Harry being lucky if he received one meal a day, though "meal" was a generous word to describe the meager offerings given to the child.

And almost worse than either the physical abuse or the virtual starvation was the denial of affection and touch. Harry had attempted, until he finally realized it was pointless and only ended with him getting hurt, to engage his aunt – he would hug her legs or ask her to pick him up. She would react as though she'd been touched by the most disgusting creature and push him away with a sneer and nasty words. The boy hadn't received one comforting touch or hug or caress in the entire time he'd been with the Dursleys.

Motion by his side drew him away from his evil plans of revenge. Harry was looking up at him, his eyes wide with fear and his breath coming faster. The child likely had a well-developed sense of when adults were angry, and he could tell that his new guardian was not pleased. Quicker than Severus had seen him move, Harry scuttled across the bed, hit the floor, and raced into the cupboard, closing the door behind him quietly.

Severus sighed. He simply had to get himself under control. He approached the cupboard and sat on the floor just outside the door.

"Jamie? I didn't mean to frighten you. I'm sorry. Would you come out, please?"

Severus heard rummaging behind the door, but Harry didn't emerge.

"Please," Severus repeated. "We need to go out shopping this morning, for clothes for you and for food. We may perhaps even stop at a toy store. Would you like that, Jamie? You can pick out some toys of your very own."

Still nothing. Severus sighed and looked up at the television. "Oh, look. Scooby-Doo's coming on."

The rummaging in the cupboard got louder, and Harry crawled out, giving Severus a wide berth. He climbed up onto the bed and settled in to watch.

Still on the floor, Severus said, "I guess we can wait until Scooby is done."

##########

The shopping trip had been productive, but incredibly frustrating. Severus had purchased an entire new wardrobe for the boy, from winter hat, coat and mittens, to trainers and boots. Whenever he'd asked Harry for input, the boy seemed incapable of making a choice, even between two items. Even at the toy store, which astounded Severus. In his limited experience, children wanted _everything_ when confronted with such enticements, but Harry was silent, his large blue eyes simply staring round at everything that was on offer. In the end, Severus had chosen for him, several things which he remembered from his own childhood, educational toys geared at teaching a young child letters and numbers, a few toys for the bath, books for the boy to look at on his own and also that Severus could read to him, by his own favorite childhood authors.

They'd also stopped at a grocer, where Severus picked up several different foods they could keep in their hotel room for Harry to snack on between meals. Again, when Severus had asked Harry for his input, the boy had simply stared at him, as though he could not comprehend what it was that Severus was asking him to do.

Severus assumed Harry's inability to choose was due to the fact that he had never been allowed choices while with the Dursleys. They had simply _given_: whatever meager food he was allowed, the castoffs from his older and much larger cousin. This was something they would have to work on, along with a growing list of other things.

At breakfast this morning, Severus had discovered that Harry did not know how to use utensils. He'd started in on his scrambled eggs with his fingers, and when Severus had gently corrected him and handed him a spoon, Harry had gamely tried, but it was obvious that he had little to no experience eating with a tool. Severus had reached over and curled the boy's hand around the spoon handle in the appropriate manner, and then breakfast became more about Harry watching Severus, to make sure the man wasn't getting angry with Harry's fumbling attempts, than it was about eating.

Harry's vocabulary (or lack thereof) was appalling, but Severus wasn't sure if this was because the boy didn't know many words or because using them had gotten him into trouble with the Dursleys and he had learned to keep them to himself. When he'd met Harry Potter the year-old baby, he'd been talkative and seemed to have an exceptional vocabulary. The four-year old that had become Jamie Carnaby had spoken three words since they'd been reintroduced: "no," "me," and "boy". What those people had done to the bright, charming, outgoing little boy was a travesty, and Severus could see he had his job cut out for him. He hoped he was up to the challenge.

"How about a bath?" he asked after they'd had lunch.

Harry looked up at him, fear in his eyes, causing Severus to wonder what those people had done to Harry to make him dread that word. Well, they couldn't avoid it forever. He went into the bathroom and started the water. When he returned, Harry had secreted himself in the cupboard. Severus sighed and went about retrieving the bath toys they'd purchased this morning and a change of clothing.

He knelt beside the cupboard. "Jamie, would you come out, please?" When he got no response, he made his voice sterner. "Now, Jamie."

Severus heard a small sigh, then Harry crawled out and sat looking up at him.

"It is time for a bath. Come with me, please." Severus stood and offered a hand to the boy. When Harry only stared at it, Severus said, "It's all right. I promise."

Obviously hesitant, Harry nevertheless put his tiny hand into Severus' much larger one. Severus pulled him to his feet and led him into the bathroom. After testing the water temperature, he turned to the boy. Who was trembling.

"It's all right," Severus said soothingly. "We're just going to get you clean." He reached over and pulled Harry's shirt up and over his head. Harry crossed his skinny arms over his thin chest, shivering pathetically. When Severus reached for the boy's trousers, he couldn't help but see the flinch, though Harry held himself in place.

A growl threatened to erupt from his chest. If any of those people had touched this boy in that way, he was not going to even try to hold himself back. He would kill them. All of them. Even their evil spawn, just for good measure. He hadn't seen any memories in the boy's head of abuse of that type, but . . .

"Would you like to take those off yourself?"

Harry nodded, and with a trembling lower lip, he pushed his trousers and pants down and stepped out of them. Quickly, Severus lifted the boy into the water then dumped the bath toys in with him.

"Would you like to play for a bit?"

Harry's big blue eyes answered affirmatively, though he neither spoke nor nodded in answer.

"Sit down, so you don't fall," Severus told him.

Harry quite willingly sat in the water, then stared up at Severus, as if looking for instruction. "You may play for a while. I will come in and wash you in a bit."

Severus left him and sat on the bed, breathing deeply, trying to get his anger back under control. He listened for any sound coming from the bathroom, but all was silent, until after some time had passed, Severus heard water moving about. He smiled, glad the boy had relaxed enough to play. He'd let him have some time alone before going in to wash him up, which had all the potential to be a somewhat traumatic experience.

Thankfully, it turned out to be much easier than Severus had anticipated. After half an hour of Harry's constant splashing, Severus guessed the water must be cooling to uncomfortable levels, and he went into the bathroom. "Time to wash up, Jamie," he announced.

The boy stilled immediately and looked up at Severus. He sat, unmoving, while Severus soaped a flannel and ran it gently over the small body. He stiffened perceptibly when Severus wet his hair and washed it, but made no protest. When he was finished, he asked, "Would you like to play some more, or are you ready to get out?"

Harry surprised him when he stood up and extended his arms to Severus. "Ready to get out, I take it?" Severus asked, then snatched up a towel, wrapped the boy in it and pulled him up. He held the boy to his chest briefly in a gentle hug, then set him on his feet. He quickly toweled the waif dry, then helped him to dress. He ran a comb through the unruly hair, smoothing it down as much as possible before giving it up as a lost cause.

He carried Harry out to the bed and settled him in it. Rummaging through the bag of food they'd brought home, Rafe selected an apple, a packet of crackers, and a tin of biscuits and took them to the bed, where he lay them beside Harry. "Which would you like?"

Harry's bottomless blue eyes looked up at him. Without looking away, he tried to pull all of the items closer to him, working them into a hiding place under the blanket.

"No, Jamie," Severus said gently. "Choose one. You may have another snack after your nap if you wish. But for now, choose one." He uncovered the treats and waited for Harry to choose. The boy's hand slowly reached out to the biscuit tin, his eyes asking the question he couldn't voice.

"Yes, you may have a biscuit," Severus said, opening the tin and handing two of the biscuits to the child.

Harry took them quickly and ate them as fast as he could.

"Good boy. I'll put the other things back in the bag," Severus said, showing him where the bag was kept. "They will be here if you want them later."

Harry's eyelids dropped, and he snuggled down further into the blankets, his biscuits gone and his busy morning catching up with him. Severus rummaged through another bag and came out with a stuffed green dragon. He gave it to Harry, and the boy brought it tight to his chest and curled around it. Within minutes, he was asleep.

While he slept, Severus searched through the Muggle newspaper he'd purchased. They needed a more permanent place to live.

##########

Severus surveyed their new home with satisfaction. It was wonderful to get out of the hotel, where they'd spent a week until Severus had found this two-bedroom fully-furnished rental. It was a small one-story house, but it was big enough for the two of them, and it had a nice large fenced-in yard for Harry to play in. It was also within walking distance of the local primary school, which Harry would attend next fall. He had a lot to do to get the boy ready for that.

He'd left Harry in his new bedroom with instructions to put his toys away. Severus didn't care how the boy accomplished the job, only that Harry make decisions about where to put his own things. He made sure to give Harry several opportunities each day to make choices, and the boy was finally responding and was able to indicate his wishes. He still, however, did not speak to his new guardian, although Severus had heard him conversing with his stuffed dragon when the boy thought Severus wasn't close enough to hear. So he knew the child _could _speak – he simply chose not to.

He surveyed the boxes in the sitting room, wondering which he should tackle next, when he was interrupted by a knock on the street-side door.

Curious and slightly fearful, he approached the door, his wand at the ready as he opened it to reveal a man, a woman, and a bushy-haired girl-child.

"Hello," the woman said cheerfully. "I'm Annabelle Granger, and this my husband, Clive, and our daughter, Hermione. We noticed you moving in, and we wanted to introduce ourselves and welcome you to the neighborhood. We live right next door," she said, pointing to their home. She thrust a pie plate at him. "It's an apple pie. To say, 'Welcome'."

"Thank you," Severus said, extending his hand to both of the adults and shaking firmly. "Rafe Carnaby. Would you like to step inside?" he invited, nervous about standing about here on the porch.

"Oh, thank you," Annabelle said, and she and her family stepped into the sitting room.

"Do you have a little boy?" the girl asked, peering unabashedly up the length of the strange man.

"I do," Severus said, smiling at the girl's brashness and pleased at the notion that she thought Harry was his son. "Jamie!" he called, raising his voice. "Could you come out here, please?"

Moments later, Harry entered the living room, his eyes widening at the strangers.

"This is Jamie," Severus said. "Jamie, these are our new neighbors, the Grangers."

Hermione approached Harry straight away. "My name is Hermione," she said. "I'm four years old. How old are you?"

Harry looked from the girl to Severus to the girl again, somewhat overwhelmed. Severus came to his rescue. "He's four as well. Jamie, why don't you take Hermione and show her your new room."

"Oh, I'd like to see your room," the girl assured him, taking him by the arm and turning Harry back in the direction from which he'd come. "Which is yours? Where did you come from? I've lived here all my life." Her voice accompanied them down the hall as she escorted Harry back to his own room.

"She's very forthright," Annabelle noted, somewhat in apology.

Bossy was more like it, Severus thought but didn't say – wouldn't do to alienate his new neighbors on their first day here. "Jamie is quite shy," he explained. "Perhaps she will help him come out of his shell."

"What is it that you do, Mr. Carnaby?" Clive Granger asked.

"Please, call me Rafe. At the moment, I am unemployed. I have taken over care for Jamie in somewhat exigent circumstances, and getting him settled has become my priority. I have a background in chemistry and research, and at some point, I will be looking for employment."

"Chemistry, huh?" Clive asked. "When you're ready, let me know. I can speak with my brother. He's a scientist and is always looking for research assistants."

"Thank you. I will keep that in mind. You are very kind to offer."

"Not at all. Annie, we really should be going."

"Hermione!" she called. "Time to go, dear! It was very nice meeting you, Rafe. We would like it if you and Jamie would come to dinner tomorrow evening. We're to be neighbors, and it would be nice to get to know you better."

Severus thought that over. If they were to live here and blend in in this Muggle community, they would do well to have Muggle friends and acquaintances. Isolating themselves would only draw attention. "We would be honored," he said, with a slight bow.

"Six o'clock then?"

Severus nodded. The children came into the room, holding hands.

"Mum!" Hermione said excitedly. "Jamie's got a really cool dragon! He let me hold it! I told him he should come to my house and see all my books. Can he come, Mum? Can he?"

"Jamie is coming for dinner tomorrow night, dear. You can show him your books then."

"Yay!" Hermione said. She dropped Harry's hand so she could clap her hands happily. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jamie, all right?"

Harry nodded, unable to take his eyes off his new friend.

"Goodbye, Mr. Carnaby," Hermione said. "It was very nice meeting you. I'm ever so glad to have another child in the neighborhood."

"Thank you, Miss Granger," Severus said, staring down at the child, not sure if he was amused by her manner or annoyed.

"Come, dear," Clive said. "We'll see you two tomorrow night."

"Yes, thank you for the pie," Severus said as he saw them out the door.

After they'd left, he turned to Harry. "You've made a new friend," he noted.

Harry smiled, the first happy smile he'd seen on the boy's face since he'd taken him. "My-nee," he said.

Severus' jaw dropped at the boy's word. He gathered himself quickly. "Yes, Hermione. Do you like her?"

Harry nodded happily and turned to go back into his room.

Severus watched him go, a smile playing about his lips.

#########

Harry's good humor lasted until dinnertime. He didn't speak again, but he went about the new house with a small smile on his lips and just looked so much happier. Severus decided that having a friend close by in their new neighborhood would likely help Harry learn to verbalize much more quickly than by working with his father exclusively, and he intended to encourage this burgeoning friendship in every way possible.

Severus was disappointed to see that Harry's mood was much more glum when they sat down to dinner. He watched the boy push lima beans around his plate, lining them up, piling them up, doing everything but eating them, until finally he sighed in resignation, stabbed one with his fork, and put it reluctantly into his mouth. Without chewing, he swallowed the bean down, then immediately grabbed his cup to wash the offending vegetable down his gullet as quickly as possible.

"Jamie."

Harry's blue eyes snapped up to meet Severus', then he looked quickly back down at his plate, sure he was about to be chastised for playing with his food. He began to quickly spear the beans on his fork and shove them into his mouth. If he was going to lose the remainder of his supper, he was going to get in as much sustenance as he could.

"Jamie, stop," Severus ordered gently, and Harry put his fork down, surreptitiously chewing the icky food he had left in his mouth. "Do you not like lima beans?"

The answer to this question was more than obvious, but Harry had never been allowed to dislike anything. In fact, turning his nose up at any offered food was self-destructive, and he had accustomed himself to eating whatever he was given whether he liked it or not. So Harry did not confess to his dislike for the slimy neon green beans, fearing he would anger his new guardian.

"It's all right not to like them, Jamie," Severus soothed the boy. "All you have to do is tell me that you don't like them, and we'll find you something else, something that you _do_ like. But you have to tell me."

Harry nibbled on his lip, wondering if he dared be honest. Finally, in a very small voice, he said, "Yucky."

Severus' smiled beamed down at the boy, but he tried not to make such a huge deal out of the fact that the child had shared his opinion. "Thank you for telling me, Jamie," he said, keeping his tone neutral. "You may leave the lima beans on your plate. We will experiment and find other vegetables that you like. Just for tonight, you may have extra pudding if you like."

Harry's eyes widened in appreciation of that thought.

"Only for tonight," Severus cautioned. "Vegetables are very important to a growing boy. I think we'll be able to find a number of them that you like. When we do, you will be allowed pudding _after _you eat a nutritious meal. All right?"

Harry nodded his agreement, his good mood returning as Severus brought out the treacle tart for afters.

##########

The adults sat at the table, sipping coffee, after an excellent meal of roast pork and vegetables. Hermione had taken Harry into her bedroom to show him her book collection. Based on the child's obvious intelligence and the size of her vocabulary, Severus would have been willing to bet that that collection was large and contained numerous volumes deemed too advanced for a child of four. Hermione was somewhat brash and more than a little bossy, but she was very gentle with Harry, and Severus decided that he liked her, despite the more glaring parts of her personality.

"You said you and Jamie haven't been together long?" Annabelle inquired.

Severus Snape would have bristled at this question, deeming it an unwarranted invasion of his privacy, and he likely would have cut the asker down to size without any hesitation. But Rafe Carnaby needed friendly neighbors, and he'd been rehearsing a story to tell them if they asked. He set his cup down in the saucer.

"Yes. Until only a few days ago, I was unaware that I even had a child. His mother and I . . . had a chance encounter. I was unaware that she had a serious drug problem. She died of an overdose when the boy was little more than a year old without ever having told me of his existence. Child welfare officials placed the boy with one of his mother's sisters. She was married, living an apparently mundane middle-class suburban life, with a child of her own the same age as Jamie. Very respectable-appearing. Unfortunately, she despised her sister and took that hatred out on my son. She was happy enough collecting the checks provided to her for his care, but she and her husband abused him, physically and mentally, for three years. Another sister became aware of what was going on, and she snatched him away. Jamie's mother had told her about me, and she was able to track me down. She found me a week ago, explained what had happened, and left the boy with me."

Severus had had a lot of experience telling a convincing lie, and enough of this story was based in truth that Severus was able to tell it very convincingly. Annabelle and Clive both had sympathetic looks on their faces by the time he'd finished.

"So the authorities don't know that you have him? Are they looking for him?" Clive asked.

"I don't know. I suspect his 'family' wouldn't willingly part with the source of income he represented, but perhaps they were happy to be rid of him and haven't informed the authorities. I simply don't know, but I could see for myself the evidence of the abuse she claimed. He was covered in bruises, he doesn't speak, he seems afraid of shadows, he has nightmares. I took him, and I left. I could do nothing different."

"Of course you couldn't," Annabelle said with understanding. "No parent would have."

"So may I assume, then, that Rafe Carnaby is not your real name?" Clive asked.

Rafe stared at him. The man was shrewd. "You may. I am trusting you with this. I hope I have not misplaced my trust." Severus knew he was taking a chance sharing this information. The Grangers could easily go to the police and report him for kidnaping.

"You have not," Clive said. He'd had a sister once, an older sister. She'd begun a relationship with a man that had consisted of almost constant verbal and physical abuse, and no offers of help from her family could convince her to leave the bastard. No one was surprised, then, when one day, in a drunken rage, he'd killed her. She'd been pregnant at the time. Clive was acquainted with domestic violence – he knew it existed. Children were being abused every day by people who were supposed to be caring for them. Women were being assaulted by men who purported to love them. Clive was grateful to see anyone being rescued from such a situation. At least this boy had a chance at a life now. He wasn't naive, however. This man sitting at their table could be feeding him a story. It was obvious they were father and son – the resemblance was too strong for anything else, but the story about the boy's past could be a complete fabrication. Clive had good instincts about people, though, and he thought this man legitimately loved that little boy. "But I can't help but think that your situation is going to make it difficult for you to obtain employment. No references, for one. No employment history."

Severus nodded in acceptance of this fact. "This is true. I wanted to get the boy away as quickly as possible. I have a little savings, so we'll be able to manage for a while. I thought I'd worry about that after he was safe."

Clive took a chance. "All the more reason for you to speak with my brother. I can explain the bare bones of your situation to him. If you can satisfy him that you can do what he needs, I think he'll be willing to take you on."

"You are too kind," Severus said, overwhelmed by this man's generosity. Severus Snape was unused to the kindness of strangers, and it was somewhat disconcerting.

"Can I set up an appointment for you to meet with him?"

Severus nodded. "If there's any chance that I might be able to work at home, I would prefer not to leave Jamie with strangers this soon."

"It's research," Clive said. "That can be done on the computer nowadays, can't it?"

When Severus only looked blankly back at him, Clive said, "You _have _used a computer before?"

"I'm afraid not," Severus admitted.

"Well, that will be a necessity I think."

"There are adult education classes at the school on week nights," Annabelle offered. "You could take a class. You can leave Jamie here with us while you do. Hermione would love to have him."

Severus astoundingly found himself close to tears. "You are very kind, both of you. We must have been led here by some sort of divine intervention."

Annabelle smiled warmly at him, convinced by the man's obvious emotion that he was telling them the truth and that he genuinely cared about the undersized boy in the next room.

The children picked this moment to enter the room. "Mum, can we have a fire? Please? Jamie wants to toast marshmallows."

"Jamie does, huh?" Clive asked with an amused and knowing smile.

"Well, me, too," Hermione clarified. "Can we? Please?"

"Can you stay for a bit longer?" Clive asked Severus.

"Of course."

Clive started a fire in the fireplace, and Annabelle brought out the toasting forks. Hermione and Harry speared marshmallows on them and held them out to the flames. Severus kept a careful eye on Harry, ready to leap to intervene if the boy got too close to the heat.

"We do this outside in the summertime," Hermione informed them. "You have to come back then. It's ever so much nicer outside."

Severus looked at Harry, whose face was covered with sticky marshmallow. "Are you getting any of that into your mouth?" he asked with a chuckle.

Fear sprang into Harry's eyes, worried he'd angered his guardian by being messy.

"It's all right, Jamie,"Severus said soothingly. "I'm not angry with you. Do you like the marshmallows?"

Harry nodded weakly. He liked them well enough that he'd eaten five. He held one up to Severus, asking for his permission for another.

"Do you want another?" Severus asked.

Harry nodded.

"Use your words, Jamie," Severus prodded. "Tell me what you want."

Harry looked around at all of them before he said, low but plain, "More?"

"Good boy," Severus praised. "You may have one more. But only one more. We don't want you to have a bellyache."

Harry smiled and turned to toast his last marshmallow.

"You're very good with him," Annabelle said softly.

Severus sighed. "He is . . . damaged, but I'm hopeful that with time and attention and affection, he can become the child he was meant to be."

Hermione crawled into her father's lap and snuggled in happily, her face a sight cleaner than Harry's. Harry studied her through sleepy eyes, then went to stand beside Severus. When the man made a welcoming gesture, Harry climbed into his lap and settled himself down exactly as Hermione had. Severus' arms went around the boy, and he rested his chin on the downy head. He closed his eyes for a moment, to better savor the contact, and when he opened them again, he found Annabelle smiling at him, tears in her eyes. She nodded once at him, in approval.

"There's a Christmas party at the school on the seventeenth. All the neighborhood children are welcome. You should bring Jamie," Annabelle told him. "I'll introduce you to some of your other neighbors, and Jamie can meet some of the other children."

"That sounds lovely," Severus said. And he actually meant it.

##########

When they got home, Severus cleaned Harry up, helped him to brush his teeth, and tucked the sleepy boy into bed. He then settled himself on the sofa in the sitting room, a late cup of tea and a book in his hands. He'd read no more than a paragraph before he became aware of the silent shadow at the edge of the room.

"Jamie," he said, putting his book down. "Is something wrong?"

Harry looked back at him, his blue eyes wide, but said nothing. He was holding something that looked like a book behind his back.

"Did you want to read a story?"

Jamie nodded.

"Well, come here, then," Severus instructed. Harry, clad in one-piece fuzzy blue pajamas, padded across the room to stand beside Severus. Severus took hold and hoisted the boy into his lap and took the book from his hand. "Curious George again?"

Harry nodded and leaned back against his father. Severus could feel how tense the little body was, as though waiting to be rejected and pushed away. To allay that fear, he turned the boy sideways across his legs and snuggled Harry up closer against him, pressing the boy's cheek into his chest. He opened the book and began to read: "This is George. He was a good little monkey and always very curious."

When he was finished, he expected to look down and find Harry asleep, but the vivid blue eyes were just as wide awake as earlier. "Bed now," he said. Still holding the boy, he stood up and returned Harry to his room, tucking him in once more.

Severus settled himself back on the sofa, rewarmed his tea, and picked up his book. He managed to read a full page before the shadow returned.

"Jamie. Do you need the loo?"

Harry nodded.

"All right then," Severus said. He got up and escorted the boy to the bathroom, stood by as the boy took care of his somewhat meager business, then instructed him to wash his hands. That completed, Severus once again tucked the boy into bed and settled back on the sofa.

He managed another five minutes of reading before he realized Harry was back. "Jamie," he acknowledged his son. "What is wrong now?"

Again, Harry only stared at him with fathomless eyes.

"Do you need a drink?"

Harry nodded.

Severus heaved himself up off the sofa again, slightly exasperated at the boy's stalling behavior. He kept a lid on his emotions and led Harry back into the bathroom. After a small drink, Severus returned the boy one more time to his bed, tucking him in firmly, kissing him on the head, and saying, quite sternly he thought, "Good night, Jamie."

Severus sighed with relief when he slumped back into the sofa cushions. He waited a moment to see if Harry came right back out, then picked up his book again. He managed to read two pages before he was visited once again by the wraith.

"Can't you sleep?" he asked this time.

Harry very solemnly shook his head in the negative. Too much sugar tonight, likely.

"All right. Come here," Severus instructed with a sigh.

Harry looked slightly apprehensive. Did he think he was about to be physically disciplined for his behavior? His feet brought him slowly across the room until he stood before his father. Severus patted the sofa beside him. "Come on up."

Harry now smiled a little – this was clearly the reaction he'd been angling for all along, but had likely not wanted to allow himself to expect. Harry climbed up onto the sofa and snuggled up against Severus' side. Severus flipped the blanket from the back of the sofa over the boy, moved over a bit so Harry slid down to rest his head on Severus' thigh, and lay a warm, comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "Comfortable?"

Harry nodded against his leg, and Severus moved his hand up to card his long fingers through the boy's soft nest of hair. "Sleep, Jamie," Severus ordered softly.

Thirty minutes later, the man and the boy (now asleep), were still on the sofa. Severus had managed to get through a large chunk of his book, his hand leaving Harry's hair only long enough to periodically turn pages. He yawned, tired himself, and lay the book aside. Looking down at the perfection that was his boy, Severus' heart swelled a couple of sizes larger, and he curled the stroking hand into a fist to stop himself from grabbing the boy up and squeezing him tightly to his chest. This was what love felt like, Severus suddenly realized. A month ago, he would have scoffed at the notion that he could feel such a nettlesome emotion, but now he let it fill him until he felt it all the way down to his toes.

##########

This new life was turning out much better than Severus had had any reason to expect. He'd spoken with Clive Granger's brother Alistair and had been offered a job, which would begin in the coming year, as soon as he possessed some rudimentary computer skills. He'd signed up for the class Annabelle had told him about, and she'd promised to take him shopping for a computer so he could practice at home.

Harry was slowly becoming more verbal, and he had begun seeking Severus out for affection. He would stop what he was doing and hug Severus' legs or climb into his lap. Severus always reciprocated, holding on to the boy for as long as he was allowed, stroking his hair or a soft cheek. He quickly grew to crave this contact as much as the child did.

By insisting that Harry use words to get what he wanted, he was slowly hearing more and more out of the boy. They named objects in the home, and they watched television, and they read books, and all of these things served to increase Harry's vocabulary every day. When he began to figure out that he wouldn't be punished for speaking, Harry began to be more willing to speak voluntarily. Severus also had Harry writing his letters and numbers every day and learning his alphabet. The tot was smart enough – he'd just never had anyone do this for him. Severus was quite certain that by the time fall arrived, Harry would be ready to begin school with the rest of his peers.

Severus was trying his hardest to put his anti-social lifestyle behind him and fit in to this new community. Toward that end, he and Harry walked with the Grangers to the school to meet Father Christmas.

The crowd was large and merry, and Harry held tightly to Severus' hand as they hung on the edge of the room. The children were forming a line to sit on Santa's lap and impart to him the deepest wishes of their heart, so Severus took Harry and joined the queue behind Hermione and Annabelle.

Hermione took an inordinate amount of time with the bearded man sitting in for Santa, and once she was finished, Severus led Harry closer.

"Well, young man," Santa said, his voice deep and hearty, "come and tell Santa what you want for Christmas."

Harry took one look at the large, bearded man, his eyes opened wide in panic, and he literally climbed up Severus' leg and into his arms, hiding his face in Severus' neck and whimpering and trembling in his panic.

Talking calmly and rubbing the boy's back, Severus smiled apologetically at the bemused man and walked toward the exit with him. "Shhhh, Jamie. It's all right. He's gone now. You're safe. I've got you."

Harry was breathing fast and plastered to Severus' chest. "I think I need to take him home," Severus told Annabelle.

"Of course," she agreed, reaching over to rub Harry's head. "Good night, love. We'll see you again soon."

Severus pried Harry off him long enough to thread the boy's arms through his coat, and he took the terrified child home.

##########

That night, Severus was awoken from sleep. Groggy, he looked at the clock only to discover that it was shortly after 3:00 a.m. Unsure what had awoken him, he lay still for a moment, listening to the silent house. When that silence was broken by a whimper, Snape flung back the blankets covering him and hurried to Harry's room.

Harry was in the middle of the bed, his blankets on the floor and the sheet twisted about his legs. He was moving in agitation, his eyes tightly scrunched shut, sweat beading on his forehead. "Pease," he said. "Pease no." His little arms came up to cover his head, as though protecting himself from blows.

Severus knew that touching the boy now stood as much chance of frightening him further as it did of comforting him, but he knew not what else to do. He sat on the edge of the bed and said softly, "Jamie. Wake up, Jamie. It's all right. You're having a dream."

When this got no response, Severus reached out and gently grasped the boy's bony shoulder in one large hand. He shook gently, calling Jamie's name. With a huge gasp, Harry's eyes flew open, but his gaze was vacant, and Severus knew that whatever the boy was seeing, it was not Rafe Carnaby or his bedroom in their new house. "Jamie?"

"No Unca pease," Harry begged.

"Jamie, you are all right. You are here with me. There is no one here but you and me."

Harry's eye's cleared, and he stared around him, slowly remembering where he was and registering that he was in no danger. His breathing slowed, and he looked at Severus, his eyes wide and panicked.

"You're all right," Severus tried again.

Two fat tears rolled out of Harry's eyes, and he looked like he desperately needed a hug but was afraid to ask, his fear of rejection stronger than his craving for comfort. But Severus saw it, and he pulled the boy onto his lap, cradling his head close to his chest, rocking him back and forth. Harry melted into his embrace and sat quietly until he fell back to sleep.

In the morning, Harry padded into the kitchen, where Severus sat sipping tea. "Good morning, Jamie."

Severus watched as Harry thought furiously, seemed to make up his mind about something, gathered all of his courage and crossed the room to stand beside Severus. His little arms rose toward the man, asking to be picked up.

Severus knew in that instant that he could completely crush this little boy's spirit by rejecting him now, so before Harry could even begin to regret what he was doing, he pulled the little boy up, sat him on his lap, and asked him, "What would you like for breakfast?"

Harry didn't answer, slumping against Severus' chest with relief. Severus hugged him tightly, admiring the courage it had taken for Harry to make that gesture, most likely expecting to be rebuffed as he had always been by his awful relatives. This boy had the heart of a lion in him, of that there was no doubt.

##########

Christmas had been a subdued affair. Harry was his usual silent self, but he seemed to enjoy the holiday which Severus had worked hard to plan with the boy in mind. He'd gone a little overboard with the presents, but he figured Harry had some making up to do when it came to receiving presents.

He had taken Harry shopping to pick out a present for Hermione, and he'd seemed to enjoy the giving just as much as he did receiving, which made Harry a truly remarkable child in Severus' eyes. He'd left Harry with the Grangers for an afternoon so that he could shop for the boy. While he was out alone, Severus went through the Leaky Cauldron into Diagon Alley and sent an owl to Minerva to let her know where they were, that they were doing fine, and what names they were now using. Several days later, through the regular post, he received a Christmas card from his Cousin Minerva, who promised to correspond regularly.

##########

The next several months seemed to fly by. Severus' computer classes were extremely confusing in the beginning. He had absolutely no frame of reference for the skills they were trying to teach him, and he became quickly mired in the new terminology and unfamiliar equipment. Annabelle was very helpful, and after a month, Severus began to think that he might actually be able to learn enough about the intimidating pile of electronics to make it work as it was supposed to. He was mortified to discover that Hermione, at the age of four, knew more about computers than he did, but he soldiered on, and by the end of January, he was ready to begin his first Muggle employment.

Alistair Granger was as generous as his brother. He spent time with Severus getting him set up and explaining the research he was conducting. Severus found it all very interesting and longed to take a more hands-on approach. Alistair assured him that if things went well, he would be willing to allow Severus to take a more active role in the lab.

Severus' work with Harry on his letters and numbers was bearing fruit, and the boy was learning in leaps and bounds. Severus thought Harry would be more than ready to start school in the fall. He was also becoming more verbal by the day and was slowly losing the fears he'd come to Severus with. He had a very active imagination (he liked to pretend the arm of the sofa was a "jagon" which he rode through the sky) and was actively curious (Severus called him "Curious Jamie"). He'd finally come to believe that food would not be withheld for punishment, as Severus let him eat whenever he wanted. The boy was slowly gaining weight, though Severus doubted he'd ever catch up size-wise with his peers – too much had been withheld from him during a developmentally critical time in his life. But the boy was affectionate and loving, and Severus quickly came to wonder how he'd managed to live without the incredible little boy in his life.

And it was a simple word that made Severus realize just how much he loved the boy.

##########

Hermione, followed closely by Harry, raced into the kitchen, where Severus and Annabelle sat sedately sipping tea. "Mum!" the excited girl shouted. "Mum! I hear the ice cream truck! First time this spring! Can we get ice cream? Please?"

"Sure," Annabelle agreed, and she rose to retrieve her purse. "Jamie, you need to ask for permission."

"Go ahead, Jamie," Hermione urged. "Ask your dad if you can have an ice cream. Hurry! We don't want to miss the truck!"

Harry came to stand beside Severus' knee. His eyes cast shyly on his trainers, Harry said, "Dad. Can I have ice ceam?" His pronunciation was still a little shaky, especially when he was nervous or afraid.

Severus' breath caught in his throat. Dad. Harry had called him Dad. Harry had never called him Dad. He always called him Sir or didn't address him at all. And now he was calling him Dad. And he was waiting for an answer.

"Yes, Jamie, you may have an ice cream."

"Tanks," Harry said with a beaming smile.

Severus started to stand to retrieve money from his pocket, Annabelle stopped him. "I've got this." She handed a note to Hermione. "Make sure the truck is stopped before you approach."

"Okay, Mum! Let's go, Jamie!" Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and together they ran from the room.

Annabelle remained on her feet, watching the children through the kitchen window. "The truck stops right in front of the house," she explained.

"He's never called me 'Dad' before," Severus offered, still awed by the simple word.

"Is that why you look so gobsmacked?" Annabelle asked with a knowing smile. "You've done wonders with him, Rafe."

"He's done wonders with me, I think," Severus admitted softly.

_##########_

Severus' work had been going really well. The work was interesting and challenging, and though Alistair allowed him to participate in simple experiments that could be conducted at the Carnaby home, Severus couldn't deny that he longed for a more active role. When Alistair mentioned that he thought Rafe was ready to join him in a more full-time, hands-on way, Severus had a difficult decision to make.

"So what do you think?" Severus asked Annabelle and Clive. Strangely enough, they'd become his sounding board, for parenting issues and many other things.

"Well, it's obviously an opportunity for advancement," Clive noted. "Alistair speaks very highly of your work. You _seem _very interested in taking the position. What's holding you back?"

"Jamie. I don't think he's ready for me to become a working single parent."

Annabelle looked at him over the rim of her cup while she sipped her tea. "He's better every day, Rafe. Many children spend the day in the care of people other than their parents. You could enroll him in Hermione's pre-school. They've a great program there."

"While that would be an acceptable alternative, I'm afraid I cannot afford it. I'm not sure Jamie is ready for that type of setting yet anyway. He is still so shy with strangers."

"You could hire someone to come into the house and stay with Harry while you're at work," Annabelle suggested. "There are agencies that will help you find someone."

Severus liked the sound of that more. Harry could remain in comfortable surroundings, which would lessen some of the anxiety he would feel from the separation. "That could be cost prohibitive as well," Severus observed, thinking out loud.

"You'd really only need someone until school starts in the fall," Anabelle said. "Then, Jamie will be in school a good part of the day."

Severus sat back in his chair. This idea had merit. If he could find the right person, someone he felt confident would be good with Harry and someone who was willing to work for a reduced rate, perhaps they could make this work.

##########

"So, Miss Crown," Severus said as he surveyed the young woman sitting at his kitchen table. "Tell me about yourself."

"Well," she said, sitting demurely with her legs crossed and sipping at her tea. "There were ten of us at home, and I'm the oldest, so I've lots of experience with young ones. My mum worked outside the home, and I was expected to care for my younger brothers and sisters. I plan on starting university after I've saved up a bit. I haven't had a real job yet, since my parents expected me to help out at home, so I haven't got references. But I'm a very hard worker, and I look forward to proving that to you."

"And would you be able to start right away?" Severus asked.

"I could start tomorrow," she said with a smile.

Regina Crown was the third person he'd interviewed to be Harry's caretaker when he returned to work, which he was very anxious to do as soon as possible. The first two, women much older and more experienced than the young person sitting here with him now, were very well qualified and would no doubt have been excellent choices. Unfortunately, they both required payment in an amount much higher than Severus could afford to pay. Miss Crown, who had responded to the notice the Grangers had placed in their dental office, was willing to work for a pittance in comparison, as long as Severus threw in two meals a day.

"I would like to meet your little boy," she said.

Severus was impressed by this request. Neither of the other applicants had wanted to meet the child they'd be caring for before discussing details of their employment. "Yes, well, let me tell you a little bit about Jamie first. He is, as I believe I said, four years old. I was not aware of his existence until a few months ago. His mother is dead, the victim of a drug overdose. His life prior to my involvement was not a healthy or happy one. He is quite small for his age, and his speech is quite delayed. He is a very intelligent little boy, and he's working hard to get caught up."

"One of my younger brothers has a speech impediment," Miss Crown lied convincingly. "I'm used to working with him. It will be easy for me to help your little fellow, too, I think."

Severus was liking her more and more. "Well, let me get Jamie then."

Severus left her alone in the kitchen while he went to retrieve Harry from his room, where he had retreated as soon as a stranger had come into their home.

"Jamie," Severus said. Harry was sitting on the floor in his bedroom, playing with his collection of trucks.

"Dad," he said, looking somewhat anxious. "I bein' good."

Severus smiled reassuringly. Harry said that a lot, always trying to reassure the man that he was behaving. "I can see that. There's someone here I'd like you to meet. Would you come out, please?"

Harry didn't want to. This was the third stranger that his father had brought into their home, and Harry didn't know why they'd come, but he was suspicious of new people and change in general. But it had been ingrained in him to obey adults, so he got to his feet and followed his father out to the kitchen.

Harry stood shyly just behind his father, holding onto his leg. "Jamie, this is Regina Crown. Miss Crown, this is Jamie."

Regina got out of her chair and approached the little boy cowering behind the tall man. She knelt down to be on eye level with the child. "Hello, Jamie," she said. "I think we're going to be great friends." She held her hand out toward the boy.

Harry stared at her hand. He didn't like her. He didn't know why, could never have articulated what he was feeling, but he didn't like her, and he edged a little further behind his father's leg.

Severus very much wanted Harry to like this young woman. The sooner they formed a rapport, the easier this transition would be on the child. "Jamie," he urged quietly. "Can you say hello to Miss Crown?"

It sounded like a question, but Harry suspected it wasn't. "'Lo," he said, looking down at the floor.

Regina finally gave up on getting the little brat to shake her hand. "That's all right," she said with a large and very fake smile. "I was shy myself." She got to her feet and smiled up at Severus. "He's adorable."

"Thank you."

"Will you be making a decision soon?" she asked.

"I believe I already have," Severus told her. "If you're willing, I'd like you to start as soon as possible."

"I can be here tomorrow," she said with a wide smile.

"Perfect," Severus said. "I will need to leave here by eight."

"I'll be sure to be here plenty before that then."

"Excellent. We will see you in the morning."

"Thank you, Mr. Carnaby," she gushed, seeming very grateful.

"Thank _you_, Miss Crown." He walked her to the door. Neither of them noticed the glare leveled at both of them by the little boy. When he returned to the kitchen, Harry was gone, and Severus turned his thoughts to how he was going to explain to the little boy why he was leaving him.

_##########_

After dinner that evening, Snape settled them both on the sofa. "Coobie?" Harry asked.

"No, Jamie. No Scooby-Doo for a few minutes. I wanted to talk to you."

Jamie sat beside him, looking up at him earnestly, looking more than a little apprehensive.

"Remember Miss Crown? The lady that you met today? She's going to be staying with you during the day."

"You goin'?" Harry asked.

"I'll be going to work in the morning, and coming home to you every night. Miss Crown will stay with you while I am away," Severus explained.

Harry's eyes grew wide and moist. "I bein' good," he protested firmly, which for Harry bordered on vehemently. He'd worked very hard to behave in a way that would not anger his father. So far, things had gone very well with this man who had rescued him from the people who hurt him. So why was he leaving him now? "I bein' good," he repeated, this time with his little voice filled with misery.

"Oh, Jamie. I know you've been good. I'm not leaving you because you haven't been good. I have to go to work. And I'll be home every day at five. And you and Miss Crown are going to have a wonderful time while I'm away."

"I go wichoo?" Harry tried.

"No, Jamie, you can't go with me. It's no place for children."

"You no go. Pease."

"I have to go." Harry was making him feel awfully guilty. But many children had parents that worked. They all eventually got used to staying with childcare providers, and Harry would, too. Sure, it would be an adjustment, but they'd get through it. "Can you be good for Miss Crown, Jamie? Will you do that for me?"

Harry would do anything for this man, and he nodded, even as a tear slipped out of one eye.

_##########_

Harry stood forlornly in the front window watching as his father walked away from him down the front path. Dad had explained why he was leaving, but Harry didn't understand. He liked being here with his father, he liked spending time with him. The rather dark man had never hurt him or said mean words to him. And now, he was leaving him here with this woman that Harry didn't trust on an instinctual level, a woman who reminded him too much of his Aunt Petunia.

"Kid!" he heard Miss Crown bark behind him. Harry whirled around, startled.

"Get in your room!" she ordered.

Harry scurried as quickly as he could to comply.

##########

Harry had stayed in his room all morning. He was bored, but he was afraid to leave his room for fear of what Miss Crown would do to him. His hunger built, and he had to use the loo, until finally, he had to risk it. Maybe he could sneak across the hall to the loo and sneak right back in here without being seen.

Cautiously he inched his door open, peering through the crack. He didn't see anything, but he could hear the television. When the door was open enough for him to slip out, he did so. Immediately, he heard, "Hey, you little shite! Did I tell you you could come out of your room?"

Harry slipped back into his room and closed his door quietly. He was shaking with fear and with the need to pee. Tears fell from his eyes as he lost control over his bladder, and he cried quietly for a time before stripping off his wet clothing and putting on clean and dry pants. Embarrassed, he rolled his wet clothes up and stuffed them under his bed. He'd be ashamed if Dad discovered he'd wet himself. Harry grabbed his stuffed dragon and climbed into his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin and curling around his favorite toy. At some point, he fell asleep, his belly grumbling.

##########

Harry was strangely quiet at dinner that evening, Severus thought. Miss Crown told him that they'd had a wonderful day, playing outside and playing games aimed at strengthening Jamie's vocabulary. Harry had been in his room when Severus had arrived home from work, and he had not come out until Miss Crown was gone. He'd expected a warm and affectionate greeting from his son upon his return home, but Harry had been aloof, staring at him with sad and accusing eyes. If Harry was trying to make him feel guilty, it was not going to work. Snape had had a very stimulating and exciting first day, and he looked forward to returning tomorrow to continue his work.

Though Harry would not speak with him, he ate heartily. He was subdued in the bath and went to bed without complaint. Severus went to bed early himself, tired from his first full day of employment in a long time. He was awakened during the night by Harry, who had the first nightmare he'd had in many weeks.

##########

The following day was much like the first. When his father left for the day, Harry made sure he was already in his room. The morning seemed to drag interminably, and when Harry's hunger drove him from his room, he once again crept out the door and stood hesitantly against the wall.

"What?" Regina snarled from her spot on the sofa. Her mouth was full of a sandwich she was eating.

"I hungee," Harry said.

"'Hungee?'" she repeated with a sneer. "Stupid kid. Get back in your room." She removed the shoe from her foot and hurled it in his direction. Her attention was back on the television, and Harry took a chance and scooted across the hall to the loo. He relieved himself as quietly as possible, then dashed silently back into his room, where he took out the stash of biscuits he'd hidden in here last night. He ate half of them and tucked the rest of them back under the bed. He spent the rest of the day in his room, making as little noise as possible and trying to pretend as though he didn't exist.

Harry was even more withdrawn that evening. Snape tried to draw him out, to get him to talk about his day, but Harry sat silently and sullenly until Severus just gave up.

##########

Harry's third day with Regina Crown was spent in a similar fashion to the first two. Harry knew what to expect now, though, so he made sure to use the loo before Dad left, and when he got hungry, he ate the rest of the biscuits he'd put under the bed two days ago and some of the chips he'd smuggled in from last night's supper. He left some of the chips for tomorrow, figuring he'd do well to plan for the future. It seemed this was to be his life now. The pleasant period he'd enjoyed with his father, the period when the man spent time with him, played with him, cared about him, was over. Harry wasn't really surprised: no one had ever wanted him before. The good times, brief as they had been, had been the surprise. If he had to find a bright side, at least no one here hurt him. Yet. He could be back with those people who had had him before.

##########

Harry was surprised the following day when his father didn't leave in the morning. He was too young to realize that Saturday and Sunday, the weekend, had a different schedule than the rest of the week. Was he expected to stay in his room today? Was this to be his new routine, even though Dad was home? To be safe, Harry retired to his room immediately following breakfast. His father found him there later.

"Jamie, are you going to stay in your room all day?" Severus asked.

Harry looked up at him from his spot on the floor, but didn't say a word.

Severus was getting frustrated by the boy's reticence. Was he going to hold his returning to work against him forever? "It's a nice day. Why don't you go out and play?"

Harry rose to his feet and left the room to get dressed for playing outside. Nearly silently, he slipped out the door into the backyard. Once he got out in the fresh air, his spirts lifted a bit. He'd been inactive all week long, and his legs longed to run and jump. He saw Hermione playing in her yard next door, and he trotted over to the fence separating them and waved forlornly. She came eagerly to the fence and tried to engage him in conversation, but he wouldn't speak with her either.

Severus watched him through the window. What was wrong with the boy? Miss Crown had reported that Harry was lively and talkative during their time together. When he was with Severus, he was quiet and withdrawn. Was Harry trying to drown him in guilt in an attempt to force him to stay home? Severus refused to bow to the boy's juvenile attempts at manipulation. It was good for both of them if Severus was allowed to have a life of his own – Severus would be a much happier person, and in turn, he'd be a better father to Harry.

Severus sighed and turned away from the window when he saw Annabelle in the backyard. The house needed a serious cleaning. He'd begin with Harry's room.

The boy's room was its usual mostly neat self. There were a few clothes on the floor, and when Severus made to pick them up, he kicked Harry's green dragon under the bed. He dropped to the floor to retrieve it, lifting the edge of the coverlet to find the toy. He pulled it out and in the process spotted a pair of jeans rolled up and shoved under the bed and a box that hadn't been there the last time he'd cleaned in here.

Severus grabbed hold of the pants and pulled them out. His nose was immediately assaulted with the acrid smell of urine. He unrolled them and found a still-damp pair of smalls inside the jeans, both smelling strongly. Harry had apparently had an accident, and he'd been embarrassed for Severus to know and had hidden his soiled clothing away. Severus wondered how Harry had been punished by the Dursleys for similar infractions and couldn't blame Harry for trying to hide the evidence.

He next pulled out the box and opened it to find food. A stash of food. Harry had stopped squirreling food away a long time ago, when he realized that Severus was not going to starve him. Why did the boy feel compelled to start doing this again? Was the upset to his routine so disturbing that he was resorting to old, bad habits?

Severus sat on the bed with a sigh. What was going on in that tousled head? He didn't want to use legillimency on the child – he wanted Harry to talk to him, confess his fears, so that Severus could dispel them. He'd give it another week – if Harry hadn't come out of his funk by then, he'd get more aggressive with his attempts to find out what was going on.

##########

By Sunday evening, Harry was starting to thaw a little in his attitude. After all, they'd gone two days without the odious Miss Crown: maybe she wasn't coming back. Harry had missed his Dad, and when the boy climbed into his father's lap and snuggled against his chest while they watched television, Severus realized just how much he'd missed the little imp's affection. Returning to full-time employment had been tiring, and he'd had little time to concentrate on Harry the last few days. So instead of trying to engage Harry and talk to him about his recent withdrawal, Severus went with the feeling of peace and contentment that filled him as they sat together quietly cuddling.

##########

So when Miss Crown arrived again on Monday morning, Harry felt the sting of betrayal even more. This time, when his father came into his room to say goodbye, Harry took a chance. He put his spindly arms around his father's neck and pressed his mouth to Dad's ear. "You no go," he whispered, as quietly as could be so Miss Crown would not hear.

Severus shivered at the ticklish sensation caused by Harry's moist breath directly in his ear. "I have to go, Jamie," he whispered back, though he wasn't sure why they were whispering.

"Pease," Harry tried.

Severus pulled the boy away from him so that he could see the small, serious face. "We talked about this before, Jamie. I have to go. You'll be staying with Miss Crown again. You had fun with her last week, didn't you?"

Solemnly, Harry shook his head no. He most certainly had _not_ had fun with Miss Crown last week. Severus, of course, assumed this was more of the same manipulation the boy had tried previously, and he hardened his heart against the pleading look. He kissed Jamie on the forehead and said, "I have to go or I'll be late. Be a good boy for Miss Crown, and I will see you this evening."

Set on his feet, Harry pondered this last statement. Did this mean that Dad would only see him this evening if he was good for Miss Crown? Harry couldn't take any chances. He would hide out here in his room again today. He would "be good" for the terrible lady, and he would wait for his Dad to come home to rescue him tonight. He refused to say goodbye or even look at his father, and eventually Severus left.

##########

Harry stayed in his room, as planned. He played quietly with his toys, wanting to draw no attention to himself. He heard Miss Crown moving about in the sitting room and the sound of the television. And then, he heard someone at the front door, and the sound of a man's voice. Curiosity overcame his caution, and he slowly opened the door and peeked out. A man was on the sofa with Miss Crown, and they were snogging. Harry covered his mouth quickly so that the "Ewwww" that threatened to escape would stay put. Fascinated, he watched as the man's hands wandered all over the woman's body as he lay nearly on top of her, both their bodies wriggling. The man spoke into the woman's ear, though Harry couldn't hear the words.

They stopped snogging and stood up from the sofa. Miss Crown took the man by the hand and led him down the hall and into his father's bedroom. Harry shrank back into his room and watched them pass. Oh, Dad was going to be so angry when he found out that they'd gone in there! Jamie wasn't even allowed to go in there when Dad wasn't around.

With the door to the bedroom closed, Harry felt safe crossing to the loo. He didn't really have to go right now, but he knew he may not have another chance today, and he was smart enough to grab it. When he returned from the loo, he heard strange noises coming from behind the closed bedroom door. The bed springs were creaking as though Miss Crown and her friend were jumping on the bed. That was strange – in Harry's experience, grown-ups didn't jump on beds and, in fact, discouraged it when children did so. He also heard noises, as though someone was in pain. Groans and "oh's" and even some cuss words. Harry wondered if the man was hurting Miss Crown. If he was, maybe he should go and help her. But Harry didn't like Miss Crown much – she hadn't been very nice to him, and he decided to let her fend for herself. He simply couldn't wait for Dad to get home tonight. When he told Dad that she'd gone in his room, Dad was going to tell her not to come back ever, and they'd go back to being a family, just the two of them, like it was before.

Harry lost interest in the weird noises and returned to his room. A short time later, he was startled when the door to his room burst open, striking the wall hard enough to leave an indent. It was the man, the man who had come to visit Miss Crown.

"Hey, kid," he said, leaning insolently against the door frame. "What's yer name?"

"J-Jamie," Harry said, inching his way backward toward the safety of the other side of the bed.

"J-Jamie," he jeered. "Come here, J-Jamie."

Eyes wide and frightened, Harry shook his head "no".

He took two steps into the room. "I said, c'mere." The menace in his voice was unmistakable.

Reminded strongly of Uncle Vernon and the consequences for not obeying, Harry got to his feet and approached the man slowly. When he was within arms' reach, the man reached out and grabbed Harry by the front of the shirt and lifted him off his feet. He brought the boy close to his face, and Harry turned away from his foul-smelling breath.

"You listen to me, runt," he said. "You tell anyone about my being here today, and you'll be sorry. Unnerstand?" He punctuated the threat with a hard shake, which made Harry's head jerk back and forth and his teeth knock together.

Harry nodded, unable to speak.

"Good. Because if you tell anyone, I'll come back here in the night, and I'll cut your throat while you're sleeping." To demonstrate, he let go of Harry with one hand and drew a finger across his throat. "And then I'll kill your father. You got it?"

Harry nodded again, tears in his eyes.

"Good," the man said, and he threw Harry on the bed. Before he left, he once again drew his finger across his throat. Harry got the message.

##########

Harry had had his bath, and his evening cocoa, and his story, and still he would not go to bed. "What is wrong with you tonight?" Severus asked.

Harry sat on the end of the sofa, hunched up in a small ball, hugging his legs. He wanted desperately to tell his father what had happened today, about the man who had frightened him so. But he believed the man's threat, he believed that he would come here tonight and hurt Harry if he disobeyed, so he kept still. But he couldn't go to bed, he just couldn't. He couldn't close his eyes because the minute he did, the man might come anyway.

Severus sat beside him, and Harry leaned into his solid warmth and safety. He trembled with the need to unburden himself. But what if the man came and killed not only Harry, but also his dad? He loved his dad, and he couldn't bear the thought of him being hurt like that.

Severus pulled Harry onto his lap and held the boy close. He couldn't understand what was troubling the boy. Was all of this a reaction to his returning to work? Would things get better after some time went by and Harry was adjusted to all of this? Severus sometimes felt so overwhelmed by and inadequate for this parenting job he'd taken on. He stroked Harry's back and smoothed down his unruly hair until he realized that Harry was asleep. He stood up with the boy in his arms and took him to bed, tucking him in gently.

Hours later, Severus woke to find Harry snoring lightly beside him in his bed. He thought about returning the boy to his own bed, but decided instead to leave him, and he went back to sleep with the warm little weight beside him.

##########

Harry lived in a state of agitation for the remainder of the week. Miss Crown's "friend" had returned twice more, each time threatening Harry in new and terrifying ways if he told anyone what had been going on in the house. He was eating less and less as time went by and the nerves gradually took hold of his stomach. He was becoming more and more withdrawn from Severus as he blamed his father for leaving him every day in this untenable situation. And yesterday, Miss Crown's friend, just before he'd left, had told Harry that today, they would be playing a very special game with Jamie. He'd squeezed Harry's penis painfully through his pants to indicate what type of game he had in mind. Harry had slept in his cupboard last night.

Severus had seen the changes in the boy and had no idea what to do about them. He was beginning to believe that his returning to work was not the entire reason behind Harry's drastic change in personality. They'd been doing so well, and Harry had slipped back to nearly the state he was in when Severus had first taken him. He had a few extra minutes this morning – he intended to speak with Harry, who had not come out for breakfast, in his room. He found the boy curled up on the floor with his dragon, between the bed and the wall.

"Jamie, what are you doing down there?"

Harry only curled into a tighter ball.

Severus sat on the edge of the bed. "Please come out."

Harry looked up at him, his eyes large and blue and oh so afraid. Severus was startled. Was Harry afraid of him? "Jamie, are you afraid of me?"

Harry shook his head.

"Then what has got you acting this way? Come here," he coaxed. "Come and sit with me."

Slowly Harry unwound, stood up, and climbed into Severus' lap. Severus' arms went around the boy, who was trembling, and they sat together until Harry's little body began to jerk with large, painful sobs. He simply couldn't hold the misery in any longer.

"Jamie? Jamie, what is wrong?" Severus asked. He pushed the boy gently away so that he could look into Harry's face. Tears streamed from his eyes as he cried soundlessly. "What is it, my boy? What has you so upset?"

Harry wanted so badly to tell him, he would have told him, but he couldn't find the words, both because he was incapable due to his age and because the sobs wracking his chest wouldn't allow him to force words from his throat. He could only cry and cling tightly to his father's shirt, his knuckles white with tension.

Severus stared down into the distraught face of his son. Harry was crying too hard to speak, and there was only one way Severus was going to get information. Wordlessly and wandlessly, he dove into his son's mind.

"Oh, Jamie," Severus breathed when he returned. "Oh, Jamie, what have I done?"

He'd seen it all – that woman's treatment of Harry, the man she'd brought into their home and his threats against his son, Harry's fear and despair that this was to be his life from here on out. Severus had been so eager to spend his time productively and had been so interested and intrigued in his work that he had refused to hear what Harry had been trying to tell him. He had been so selfish, thinking only of himself and what he wanted, and he had put Harry through hell. He had been fooled by Regina Crown, had thought she would be good for Harry, but she'd been exactly the opposite, and it would probably take months for Harry to recover from this.

"Jamie," Severus said, holding Harry's tiny face in his large hands. "She will not hurt you again. You will never have to see either of them again. I am so sorry, my son. I am so sorry." He pulled Harry against his chest and held him tightly. Harry was still crying, though he was quieting some, and Severus was struggling not to cry himself. A knock sounded on the door, and Severus knew he had a job to do.

He held Harry tightly for another moment, then shifted him off his lap and onto the bed. "I'll be right back."

While he strode to the front door, Severus fought to keep his temper in check. He wanted badly to make this woman pay for what she'd done to Harry, but he couldn't end up in prison. What would happen to Harry then? So when he opened the door, he didn't immediately hex the woman into a million pieces, though his glare could have scorched human flesh.

"Miss Crown," he growled.

"Mr. Carnaby," she said with a bright smile. "You have a nice day. Jamie and I will be just fine. I thought we might take a walk to the play park today. It's such a beautiful day."

Severus glared down at her. She had a lot of nerve, he had to give her that. "You will not be stepping foot in this house again, Miss Crown. And you will never come within miles of my son."

Now she looked confused. "I'm sorry, sir, is something wrong?"

"Yes, something is wrong. I know how you've been treating my boy. I know about the man you've been bringing here. And I know that he has threatened and put hands upon my son. You I merely wish to inflict pain on. Were he here, I would likely commit murder. My suggestion is that you leave, now, while I am still in control of myself. I cannot guarantee how much longer that will last."

"You owe me for this week," she baldly stated.

"I suggest you go to the authorities and try to collect," Severus suggested. "When they come to speak with me, I shall tell them everything."

She stared up at him for a moment before deciding that he wasn't going to budge. "Arsehole," she spit, then turned and stocked away. Severus couldn't help himself. With a flick of the wand still in his pocket, he hexed her with a particularly insidious and embarrassing rash which would affect her and her partner.

##########

"She's gone," Severus told Harry. "And she won't be coming back."

"Gone?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Gone," Severus confirmed. "Forever."

Harry smiled tentatively.

"Come, Jamie. We've an errand to run, and then we're going to the zoo."

"Zoo?" Harry repeated, and his smile grew larger.

"Zoo. Are you interested?"

Harry was grinning now, and he nodded vigorously. "Monkeys?" he asked. Harry really liked monkeys. His favorite books starred Curious George.

"Yes, there will be monkeys. Though you'd better be careful. The zookeeper might think you belong in the cage with them," Severus teased.

So after visiting Alistair and explaining their situation and agreeing to go back to the way things used to be until Harry started school, he and Harry spent the day at the zoo. Harry had a wonderful time there, pointing excitedly at everything, and practicing his words at Severus' insistence. By the time they arrived home, Harry was exhausted and nearly asleep when Severus tucked him into bed. "I seep wichoo?" he asked sleepily.

"How about if I lay here with you until you fall asleep?"

"Okay," Harry agreed with a yawn.

Severus settled himself into the bed with Harry snuggled up against him. Harry was soundly sleeping within moments. Severus looked down at him and brushed the hair from his forehead. "I'm sorry that I put my own wants and needs above your own, love. When I took you away from your previous life, it was to protect you from people who did were not concerned with your best interests, and I am disheartened to find that I have become one of them. I vow to you now, my son, not to let that happen again." Severus kissed him on the forehead before getting up and tucking the boy in. "Good night."

Harry slowly but certainly improved after Severus ended their disastrous association with Miss Crown. For a solid week, Harry hung fearfully back in his room each morning until Severus went in and assured him that the bad lady wasn't coming back. Finally, after a week, he seemed to believe it, and they returned to life the way it used to be.

To be continued . . .


	2. Chapter 2

PATCHWORK, Part 2

by Warviben

**Summary: **Harry Potter is being mistreated by the Dursleys. Everyone wrings their hands and bemoans the situation, but only one man has the fortitude to do something about it.

**Warnings:** There will be a scene of a sexual nature, as witnessed through the eyes of a child, without any graphic detail. There will, however be nudity, so be prepared to shield your eyes.

**Note: **You'll recognize some of the language when Harry/Jamie attends his first potions class. That's because it was taken directly from the book. I haven't highlighted it in any way. If it seems as though you've seen some particular words before, those are it.

##########

Harry made great leaps over the summer in his development. He had learned all his letters and the numbers 1 through 10. He was very interested in books and would sit with them for a long time, looking at them and pretending to read them. His vocabulary and his willingness to speak were increasing every day until by the end of the summer, he chattered almost constantly. Now that he was out from under the constant fear and oppression, Harry's true personality was allowed to develop and flourish. He was lively and quick and curious. He was also impatient and headstrong and had a bit of a sarcastic streak already. The more comfortable he became with Severus, the more Harry began to act like a normal child: he argued with Severus, he slacked off on his chores and had to be nagged to complete them, and he complained about things he perceived as unfair. Though Severus believed he wanted Harry to be a normal, non-trauma-ridden child, he found the reality to be a doubled-edged sword.

Harry's friendship with Hermione had been cemented by contact every day. The two children were different in almost every way imaginable, but their differences only seemed to bring them closer together. Hermione was studious and serious for the most part, but Harry liked her enough so that when she corrected him or led him into learning something, he never felt threatened or coerced or belittled. Harry's rough and tumble playfulness drew Hermione into a world of make-believe and physical play that she hadn't known existed.

Their very different natures led them to anticipate school beginning in different manners as well. Hermione couldn't wait, and Harry was deathly afraid to leave his father.

_##########_

Harry held Severus' hand as they walked the short distance to school. This was Harry's first day, and Severus was nearly as apprehensive as Harry. What if Harry wasn't ready? What if sending him to school and separating him from his father forced him back into his insecurities? What if Severus wasn't ready to let him go yet? Harry was only five, and he was so small. Wouldn't waiting another year, and making sure Harry was absolutely ready for this, be wiser?

The Grangers were walking in front of them, Annabelle and Clive on either side of Hermione, both holding a hand. Hermione hadn't stopped talking since they'd left – she was obviously very excited about starting school today. Annabelle looked back and seemed to notice Severus' distress. She let got of Hermione's hand and dropped back to walk beside Severus.

"He'll be fine," she told him softly. "He's ready."

"I'm beginning to wonder if _I'm_ ready," Severus confessed.

Annabelle smiled her understanding. She had mixed emotions about her own daughter going off to school, but she wouldn't hold Hermione back for the world.

"They'll be fine," she said. "They need this. And it wouldn't be any easier if you waited another year." Severus had told her he was contemplating sending Harry next year.

Severus sighed in defeat. He knew she was right. He knew Harry was ready, he knew it would be good for him to mingle with other children and learn in a structured environment. Harry hadn't expressed any fear about starting school, but he also hadn't seemed excited about it. "You're right, of course," he said. "He will be fine."

Harry let go of Severus' hand to run ahead and walk beside Hermione, taking her hand. Severus watched him go, feeling oddly emotional. He'd had Harry for only a few months, and he was finding it difficult to let him go.

When they arrived at school, Hermione hugged both her parents, then skipped through the gate into the school yard, immediately locating her teacher, whom she and Harry had met last week at open house. Harry hung back, obviously unsure about going forward.

Severus dropped to one knee. "Ready?" he asked Harry.

Harry nodded, but still looked reluctant. "You'll be here? When I'm done?"

"I'll be right here," Severus promised, pointing at the ground beneath their feet. "When you come out that door, I will be standing right here. And I cannot wait to hear about all that you do today."

Harry still seemed unsure. Severus took his face in his hands. "Jamie, I promise you, son. I will be here at the end of the day. I promise."

This seemed to reassure Harry, and he threw his arms around Severus' neck and hugged him hard. "I love you," he said into Severus' ear.

Severus pulled Harry tighter as a solid lump formed in his throat. Somehow, he managed to speak around it. "I love you, too, son. Have a wonderful day."

Hermione had returned to the gate, impatiently waiting for Harry to finish his goodbye. "Come on, Jamie!" she urged, obviously anxious to get her day started.

Severus released Harry and stood up straight. Hermione took Harry by the hand and pulled him into the school yard.

"I will meet you both here after school," Severus called after them. Hermione would be spending her afternoons at the Carnabys. Severus would be there with Jamie in any event, and he'd offered the Grangers to take Hermione as well. They'd gratefully accepted, knowing Hermione would be in good hands until they made it home at the end of the day. Severus was returning to work himself next week, during the hours the children were in school, and he was looking forward to it.

The children didn't look back at their parents standing forlornly by the school yard gate.

_##########_

Severus made sure that at 2:45, he was standing in the exact spot he had told Harry he would be in. When children began pouring out the front door of the building, he scanned them methodically for Harry. Finally, he spotted him, side by side with Hermione, searching anxiously for Severus. When the boy's eyes met his, Severus waved, and a big smile of relief spread across Harry's face.

Had the boy really thought he wouldn't be here? Harry and Hermione merged into the line of children waiting to leave the schoolyard and join their waiting parents. A playground monitor stood at the gate, checking off the children to ensure that they went home with the appropriate adult. When Harry and Hermione finally got through the gate, Harry threw himself into Severus' arms. "You're here!" he whispered into Severus' ear.

"Of course I'm here. I promised. Did you have a good day?" Severus set Harry back on his feet.

"Yes," Harry said. "I really like Miss Brodie. She's got red hair."

"Does she? And how was your day, Hermione?"

This was all the opening Hermione needed, and she launched into a detailed description of everything she had learned today, everything she hoped to learn this year, and every way in which she thought the class could be run better. As Severus walked down the street with a child's hand in each of his own, he tuned her out and smiled down at Harry, knowing the boy likely wouldn't get a word in edgewise until Hermione had gone home for the day.

##########

"How was school today?" Severus asked as they sat over pudding. Spring had finally arrived, and the sun set later each day. It was nice to sit at dinner with some natural light filtering in through the windows.

"Fine," Harry answered vaguely.

Severus waited for Harry to continue, and when the boy did not, he sat back and surveyed him. "Anything unusual happen today?"

"No," Harry said, dragging his spoon through his pudding, his eyes on his plate.

"So you would be surprised if I told you that Miss Brodie called me today?"

Harry's blue eyes flicked up at his father, then back down to his plate. He shrugged, but did not speak.

"I would like to hear your version of events," Severus said, keeping his voice calm and reasonable.

From across the table, Severus could see that Harry had begun shaking. The boy gave up all pretense of eating and dropped his spoon onto his plate. His breathing started to quicken and he seemed to shrink into himself.

Severus noticed the signs of panic and attempted to set the boy at ease. "Jamie, you are not in trouble. I simply would like to hear what happened today. Can you tell me?"

After a moment, Harry spoke, his voice almost too low to hear. "Some kids were teasing Hermione. They were making fun of her hair. I went over to help, and she ran inside crying. But then the boys started on me. I ran away from them. I ran around by the kitchens, to hide behind some rubbish bins there, and . . . I don't know what happened next. I heard them coming. I went to jump behind the bins, and it was like the wind caught me or something, because next thing I knew, I was sitting on the chimney. I swear, Dad, I didn't mean to do it. I don't even know how I got up there!" Harry was crying now, Severus suspected, not because of what he'd done, but because of his hear of how his father would react.

Severus wanted to get up and go around the table and console his son, but he suspected approaching Harry now would send him into a panic. "Jamie," he said. "Look at me."

When Harry looked up, his face was tear-streaked and his eyes were swimming.

"I am not angry with you, Jamie." In fact, Severus was quite proud of the boy. "You have done nothing wrong." No, what he had done was unleashed accidental magic, and Severus couldn't be more pleased at this first sign that Harry Potter indeed possessed magic.

"You're not?" Harry sniffed.

"No, I'm not. Come here." Severus opened his arms, and to his great relief, Harry came around the table and climbed into Severus' lap and into his embrace.

Severus held the boy for a long moment before speaking again. "Do you believe that I am not angry with you?"

Harry looked up at him and nodded. He seemed to truly believe it, but underneath that belief was a great deal of surprise.

"Good. What happened to you at school was natural and nothing that you need to be ashamed of or punished for. Unfortunately, being on a roof, no matter how you got there, is unsafe, and Miss Brodie feels that you need to be punished in order that you will not do it again and so that any other children will not see it as a grand adventure and do the same thing." He felt the small body in his arms stiffen, and Severus hastened to reassure him. "Do not be concerned about that. She is going to keep you in for recess for a week. That is all. And I will speak with her about the boys who accosted you and Hermione. I am proud of you, Jamie, for standing up for your friend. That was well done of you."

"So you're not going to punish me?"

"No, Jamie, I am not going to punish you. As far as I am concerned, the matter is finished."

Harry slumped in relief against Severus' chest, and the two of them sat there for some time simply enjoying a cuddle.

##########

4 years later . . .

By the time Harry was eight, he was a normal little boy, just like any other little boy in the neighborhood. He liked to climb trees and run in the house and get dirty and plead with his father to stay up later than his regular bedtime. He liked going to school to see his friends and play, but his studies were an after-thought, a subject that created some stress between him and his father. Harry tended to rush through his homework and relied on Hermione too much to suit Severus. Aside from the always-present possibility that Harry's magic could spark, he was just like every other child on the street. And Severus soon discovered that Harry and Hermione were more alike than not.

Severus had continued to provide after-school care for Hermione, and the two children spent their afternoons doing homework and playing together. When the weather was nicer, Severus often joined them in the yard with work of his own that needed doing or journals and periodicals he wanted to get caught up on. It was on a particularly warm spring day that he discovered Hermione's secret.

He tore himself away from the _Journal of Genetics _that currently held his interest periodically to check on the children. When he looked up to find Hermione and Harry surrounded by swirling rocks and acorns and bits of grass, he sat up straight, startled. The children were laughing, not concerned a bit about being in the center of the gentle tornado. Harry's face was rapturous and admiring, and Hermione had a small smile on her face as she concentrated. Obviously, this was not Harry's magic showing itself. "Sweet Merlin," Severus said under his breath.

He heard a gasp behind him and turned to see Annabelle, her hand covering her mouth as she looked on in horror and fear. "Annabelle," he said.

"I don't know what this is, Rafe," she whispered. "She's done things like this before."

In the yard, Hermione had dropped the spell and the two children were now examining the items that had fallen to the ground.

Severus stood up and approached Annabelle slowly. He could see she was on the verge of panic. "Annabelle," he said. "_I_ know what this is. It's all right. _She's_ all right."

She turned her wide, frightened eyes on him. "What is it, Rafe? What's happening to my daughter?"

"Perhaps this is something we should sit down and discuss with Clive. He'll likely have questions as well," Severus suggested.

"I'm going to call him home from work now," Annabelle stated, and she left to do that.

_##########_

Harry and Hermione sat with trays in front of the television eating their supper, a treat they were very excited about since they'd never before been allowed to do so. This, of course, left their parents free to talk around the dinner table.

Annabelle had been waiting patiently for Rafe to begin his explanation. She'd noticed odd things about her daughter for several years now. The incidents didn't happen frequently enough to really concern her, but there was something slightly off about the girl, and she was anxious to know what sort of explanation their neighbor could offer. The man seemed oddly reluctant to get started, so she prodded him.

"You said you could tell us about Hermione," she said, keeping her voice low so that the children would not overhear.

"I can. It may be difficult for you to hear or understand. Please be assured, though, that there is nothing physically wrong with her. She has magic."

"She has what?" Clive asked.

"Magic," Severus repeated. "She is a witch."

The Grangers stared at him across the table as though they didn't know him and thought him more than a little mentally unstable.

"Is this some sort of joke?" Clive asked, scratching his head in perplexity.

"I assure you it is not. She has magic. After what I saw today, there can be no doubt."

"But this is ludicrous," Annabelle said. "There is no such thing as magic."

Severus removed his wand from his pocket and placed it on the table. Both Grangers stared at it. "What is that?" Annabelle asked.

"That is a wand," Severus said. "A _magic_ wand. It is mine."

Annabelle looked up at him now. "You? You are . . . what, a warlock?"

"The term we use is wizard," Severus said.

Clive looked as though he was getting angry now. "Rafe, you've become a good friend since you and Jamie moved here, and I can't understand why you'd be saying these things. You aren't the type for practical jokes, and if that's what this is, it is supremely unfunny."

Severus picked up his wand and flicked it. "I have cast a privacy charm so that the children cannot hear us. Go ahead – call to Hermione."

Clive just looked at him in disgust, but Annabelle was already beginning to understand and accept. As hard as this was to believe, it explained so much. "Hermione," she called. The children's eyes remained glued to the television. "Hermione Jean Granger!" she called, louder this time. Still no response. She turned back to look at Severus. "So it's true. Our daughter is a . . . witch. And you are a wizard. And Jamie?"

"Jamie has magic as well."

"Wait a minute," Clive said, looking at his wife. "You can't be seriously accepting this . . . explanation!"

Annabelle turned to face her husband. "How else do you explain the things she can do?" she challenged. "You know as well as I do that something has been different about that girl since the day she was born. And it's more than just her intelligence." She turned back to Severus. "Why her?"

"I do not know. Magic is usually hereditary, but every now and then someone with non-magical parents is born with it. There seems to be no logic to it at all."

"What do we do now?" Clive asked. "Is there some sort of training she should have?"

"Her name has likely been down on the rolls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry since the day she was born. All magical children in the UK have the opportunity to attend, beginning at age eleven. It is a boarding school located in a protected part of Scotland. She will learn there how to control and use her magic. Until then, it is best that she be told what she is and how important it is that no one find out about it. I can help her to master the urge to use wild magic."

"Does Jamie know? About his own magic?"

"No. I have not told him yet. If you are going to tell Hermione, now might be the ideal time for me to tell Jamie as well."

"Rafe," Clive said, with the air of a man who was about to ask a difficult question. "Is all of this somehow connected to you and Jamie living here under assumed names?"

Severus sighed, wishing that his neighbors and friends weren't so quick on the uptake. "There is evil in the magical world, just as there is evil in the Muggle one."

"That's what we are, then?" Clive interrupted. "Muggles?"

"That is the term that we use," Severus said. "Harry's parents were killed by an evil man, when he was just a child. He was placed with relatives who were abusive, and I took him from them to keep him safe and give him a better life, the life that he deserves."

"Wait a minute," Annabelle said. "You're not Jamie's father?"

"Not his biological father, no," Severus admitted.

"But you two look so much alike. How is that possible?"

"We both have charms upon us to alter our appearances. It was necessary to ensure the deception was not questioned." Severus paused for a moment. "I am trusting the two of you with information that could put me in prison. Or perhaps lead to both our deaths." He looked at them both, individually, for a long time. "I am not exaggerating about that. I hope I have not misplaced my trust." He looked to his son, sitting serenely on the sofa and munching on chips, unaware that his life was about to be shaken up.

Annabelle and Clive exchanged a look, then Annabelle spoke for both of them. "We can see how much you love that child, Rafe. If I didn't think you a good man, I would never have left my daughter with you. We saw the child that Jamie was when you came here with him, and we see the perfectly normal boy he is now. You have performed a miracle with him, Rafe, and he's lucky to have you. We'll tell no one."

Severus sat back in relief. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"Should we tell her now?" Annabelle asked.

"That is entirely up to you."

"Can we do it here? She will have many questions," Clive said.

"Of that I have no doubt," Severus said wryly.

##########

Severus canceled the privacy spell and pocketed his wand, then led the way into the sitting room. "Are you two finished?"

"Yes, Uncle Rafe," Hermione said. "I'm done."

"Me, too," Jamie said. "Is there pudding?"

"We'll do pudding in a bit," Severus said, removing their plates to the table and setting their trays aside. "There is something that we need to discuss with both of you."

The Grangers took seats on the love seat in front of the sofa, and Severus settled himself in the arm chair.

Harry looked at all of the adults looking at them so seriously and became nervous. He searched his memory for what he might have done wrong, what _they_ might have done wrong, but he came up with nothing. He hadn't done very well on the spelling test yesterday, he knew, but his father didn't even know about that yet. Suddenly very afraid, Harry slid off the couch and went to stand beside his father. "I bein' good," he whispered.

Despite the strides Harry had made, Severus knew that he was still insecure about some things. Severus wasn't sure how much Harry remembered about the Dursleys and how he had been taken from them, but somewhere in the deep recesses of Harry's mind he knew that he hadn't always been with Severus, because whenever he thought his father was angry at him, he became afraid that Severus would send him back to wherever he came from or just abandon him altogether. When those insecurities reared their ugly head, he felt compelled to remind his father that he had been behaving to the best of his ability.

Severus pulled Harry into his lap, even though he knew the boy thought he was much too old to be held by his father. Harry didn't protest, which told Severus just how much the boy really needed this. "You're not in any trouble, Jamie. Unless you've done something naughty you haven't told me about?" he teased.

Harry pressed his face to Severus' chest and shook his head. Not studying enough for his spelling test wasn't really naughty, was it?

Severus' arms came around Harry, and he hugged him tightly, briefly.

"There's something we need to tell you," Annabelle started, looking at her daughter.

Before she could begin, Harry squirmed his way off of Severus' lap and went to sit beside his friend. Taking her hand for fortitude and comfort, he turned to face the Grangers.

"Perhaps Rafe should do this," Annabelle said, and they all turned to face Severus.

##########

Harry had been amazingly quiet during Severus' explanation about magic and witches and wizards and the need for secrecy. Hermione, predictably, had asked many, many questions: Can I hold your wand? When can I get my own wand? What will I learn at Hogwarts? Can I do magic before I go? Severus had been very patient with her and had answered every question she posed, along with those that occurred to her parents while they talked, and finally, the Grangers were satisfied and took their leave. It was too late for a bath, so Severus instructed Harry to get into his pajamas and then tucked him into bed.

"Did you have any questions, Jamie? You were very quiet tonight."

Harry shrugged, and Severus could tell that something was bothering him.

"What is it, son? What is troubling you?"

Harry's blue eyes were large and despairing. "Does this make me a freak?"

"Where did you hear that word?" Severus asked, appalled.

Harry shrugged again. "I don't know." It was somewhere in the back of his mind. Someone had called him that once, perhaps more than once, for some reason that he couldn't understand. Maybe this was why.

"Jamie, look at me." When he had the boy's attention, Severus said, "You are no such thing. You have magic, and that makes you special. There are those who don't understand that, and they are ignorant. I am so very proud of you."

"Would you be proud of me if I wasn't magic?" Harry asked in a small voice.

"Of course I would," Severus said sincerely. "I will be proud of you no matter what."

"What if I did something you didn't like? Would you still be proud of me then?"

"Well, I guess it depends on what that something was."

"How about if I did bad on my spelling test?" Harry looked up at him, his expression a mixture of slyness and innocence.

Severus stared down at the little imp, knowing exactly what the boy was trying to tell him. "_If_ you did bad_ly_ on your spelling test, I would expect you to be more prepared for you next exam. But I would still be proud of you, and I will always, _always_ love you, Jamie. Never doubt that."

"But what if I can't spell 'love'?" he cheeked.

Severus pulled the covers over the troublesome boy's head. "Go to sleep, brat." Through the covers, he tickled the boy until Harry called, "Stop!"

"Good night, son."

"Love you, Dad," Harry said with a happy sigh.

"And I love you. Now sleep, or I'll turn you into a turtle and make soup out of you."

Harry's head popped out of the blankets. "Could you do that?"

"Sleep!"

##########

Severus thought it prudent that Harry and Hermione begin to receive an introduction to magic, but before he felt comfortable doing that, he sent a letter to Minerva.

_Dear Cousin Minerva:_

_I hope this missive finds you in good health. We are both well. Jamie is doing satisfactorily in school, though a bit more effort would serve him well. I am enclosing a recent photo so you can see how much he has grown. _

_We have discovered that one of Jamie's childhood friends shares his affliction. Her name is Hermione Granger. If you have a moment, I would appreciate it if you would check the register to ensure that her name is there. She will turn 11 in March of the same year as Jamie. Perhaps while you're there, you could confirm that our boy appears as well._

_Also, if you have contacts, it would be appreciated if you could confirm whether officials have registered our address here as a magical residence. I feel a little introduction to magic might be in order for both of them, but I do not want to risk violating any statutes and bringing unwanted scrutiny down upon us._

_Thank you for your continued support. Perhaps if you can get away during the holiday, you might come for a visit. It has been too long since I last saw you._

_Yours, Rafe_

Severus knew that if he started doing magic here regularly, in this largely Muggle area, the Ministry would take notice and would likely send someone to investigate. His sparse use of magic now hadn't set off any alarm bells to date. If, however, they knew that a wizard lived at this residence, they wouldn't bother. Severus wasn't sure what would have happened to Ministry records when he assumed a false identity, but he didn't want to take any chances. He also wasn't sure what Hogwarts would have done with Harry when he became Jameson Carnaby – it was possible that he wasn't on the Hogwarts rolls at all. Severus wasn't sure how he'd handle that, and it made sense to know now whether it would be a problem.

##########

A week later, a reply came from Minerva.

_Rafe and Jamie:_

_How nice it was to hear from you. Once I have my holiday plans worked out, I will let you know. I would love to see both of you._

_I have done as you asked. Hogwarts rolls contain the names of both Hermione Granger and Jameson Carnaby. A third name which you would be familiar with also remains on the list, which I found strange, but who am I to argue with the wisdom of Hogwarts?_

_I also have a friend in the Magical Law Enforcement Office and was able to confirm that your home is listed as a magical residence. You should be safe to perform a little magical instruction there. I look forward to the time when I get ahold of two eager young people who have been instructed by you._

_Please let me know if there is anything else you need. It would be nice to hear from you when you _don't _need something as well (hint, hint). _

_I will let you know about holiday. Take care of yourselves._

_Warmest regards, _

_Minerva_

So Severus began to teach Harry and Hermione the basics of magic. The first time Harry and Hermione picked up Severus' spare wand and cast a spell with it, everyone in the room knew that there was no doubt that both of these children had magic. Though the wand they were holding hadn't been chosen specifically for them, there was an obvious and palpable connection between the child and the magic. Though the Grangers, who were watching Hermione's first experience with directed magic, didn't realize the import of what they were seeing, Severus did, and his eyes moistened with pride in his son.

##########

Three years later . . .

It had been an interesting and hectic week, Severus thought. Two days ago, he and the Grangers had taken Harry and Hermione to Diagon Alley to purchase their school supplies. The children (and the Grangers, too, truth be told) had been enthralled with all they had seen. They had purchased their school robes and their textbooks and their potions supplies. They had finally been chosen by their very own wands. And Harry and Hermione had jointly picked out a beautiful snowy owl which the two families would share to communicate with each other while the children were at school.

Yesterday, Harry had spent the day in his school robe, reading avidly through his school books. It was obvious that the boy was excited about starting at Hogwarts, and Severus suspected that the fact that he was attending a boarding school hadn't really sunk into that addled head yet. Severus knew he was going to miss Harry terribly, but he feared how Harry would deal with the separation. Hopefully he'd given Harry a good foundation and the security to go away from home for an extended period of time without feeling as though he was being "sent away" or that his father would not be here when he returned. Minerva had promised to look after him, but Severus couldn't help but wish that he would be at Hogwarts himself.

And then this morning, while Harry was packing his things in his new trunk, the post had arrived, bringing with it a disturbing letter from Hogwarts.

_Rafe,_

_I have come into possession of some information that I thought it prudent to share with you, to hopefully prevent you from doing anything foolish._

_At our final pre-term staff meeting yesterday, Albus was pleased to announce that Severus Snape was returning as Potions Master. I have assumed that you haven't made any career- and life-altering plans without advising me. I'm left with the conclusion that he is trying to draw you out. He (along with everyone else) knows that Harry is due to begin his magical education this year, and since we have not received a response to the letter sent to him at his last known address (that being Privet Drive), Albus has apparently concluded that you have either removed the boy from the country or are denying him his magical education. He believes that you will come out of hiding, wherever you are, to defend your reputation from this imposter._

_I'm sure I do not need to advise you to use caution?_

_I am eagerly awaiting Jamie's arrival. I have my fingers crossed that he ends up in my house so that I can keep a closer eye on him. The imposter will have charge of Slytherin, as you would if you were here, so that will be the worst place for him. From what I know of his character and his heritage, Gryffindor isn't a stretch. (Calm down – I hear you growling.)_

_I will keep you apprised of whatever I hear. Please let me know if you have concerns that I can assist you with._

_Warmest regards,_

_Minerva_

So Severus had been brooding on that news all day. Did Dumbledore really think that inserting a counterfeit Severus Snape "returning" to Hogwarts after a seven-year absence would force the real Severus Snape out of hiding? Did he think that Severus' reputation was worth more to him than Harry was? The old man was apparently desperate. Hopefully, whoever this imposter was, he or she was at least capable of teaching potions, because Severus had no intention of going anywhere near Hogwarts. He would trust Minerva to run interference with the Headmaster and hope that the meddling old man never discovered just who Jameson Carnaby actually was.

"Everything okay, dad?" Harry asked from the door of his bedroom.

"Hmmm?" Severus asked, startled out of his thoughts by the appearance of his son. "Yes, everything's fine. I was just thinking about how much I'm going to miss you."

Harry approached and stood between his dad's knees. "I'll write to you every night," he promised sincerely.

Severus pulled the boy close and hugged him tightly. "You'll wear poor Hedwig out. I'd be happy with once a week."

"Will you be all right here by yourself, Dad?" Harry asked into his chest.

Severus smiled into Harry's hair. The boy was worried about _him_. "I'll be just fine, Jamie. Don't you worry about me. I will miss you, but I will manage just fine."

"Maybe we should get a dog," Harry said, looking hopefully up at Severus. Harry had wanted a dog for years. "You know, to keep you company."

Severus didn't hide his smile this time. "You think I could replace you with a dog?"

"He'd be someone to talk to, someone to look out for you."

"I don't need anyone to 'look out for me'. You, on the other hand . . ."

"I'll be good," Harry promised.

"You study hard and keep your nose out of things that don't concern you, and you'll do fine."

"Hermione thinks she'll be in Ravenclaw." Severus had told the children about the Hogwarts houses.

"That wouldn't be a surprise," Severus agreed. "Though you never know what the Sorting Hat will decide. What about you? Where do you think you'll end up?"

Harry sat on Severus' lap, something he hadn't done in a long time. It told Severus that something was bothering the boy, and he waited for Harry to work up the courage to spit it out.

"I don't know. I just hope it puts me _somewhere_." He said this as though he thought it was a joke, but it was obvious he was worried.

"Do you think the hat will be unable to place you?"

Harry shrugged. "That would be really embarrassing, huh?"

"I've never heard of that happening before," Severus tried to reassure him. "The hat may have a difficult time placing you because you have attributes that are indicative of many of the houses, but I trust that in the end, it will place you where you belong."

"That boy I met at the robe shop – he said he was sure he'd be in Slytherin," Harry said.

"Oh?" Harry hadn't told him that he'd met a boy in the robe shop. Severus had taken the Grangers to the stationers while the children were being measured.

"Yeah. He said his family had been in Slytherin for ages, so he was sure he'd go there, too."

"Families do tend to be placed in the same house, but it's also not uncommon for family members to be placed in different houses. The hat will decide what's best for _you_, not what was best for other members of your family."

"What house were you in, Dad?"

"I think I will keep that to myself for now. I would not want that information to sway you in any way."

Surprisingly, Curious Jamie accepted this. "I don't think I want to be in Slytherin, though. I didn't like that boy much. He was kind of stuck on himself."

"Don't judge an entire house by your first impression of one child," Severus advised.

Harry was silent for a moment. "What house was my mum in?"

Severus hesitated. According to the story he'd concocted, he didn't know Harry's mother well enough to know this information. In fact, he couldn't remember whether he'd ever posited that Harry's mother was a witch or a Muggle. But Harry's mother had been in Gryffindor, and since Severus wanted to steer Harry there if he could, he bit the bullet and said, "I am not entirely sure, but if I had to guess, I would say that she was a Gryffindor."

"Oh," Harry said quietly.

"Are you all packed?" Severus asked after another quick hug.

"Almost."

"Why don't you go finish up and then we'll go out and get some supper?"

##########

Parting was difficult, more difficult than Severus would have ever anticipated. He thought it was harder on him than it was on the boy. Harry had bounded happily up onto the train, followed closely by an excited Hermione, and both children had waved vigorously from the window of a car. Severus actually felt like crying when he watched the train pull out of the station, but he held himself together because Severus Snape did not cry in public. Annabelle Granger had no such rule, and she was visibly crying when Severus turned back to the Grangers.

"Shall we go home?" Severus suggested.

_##########_

Severus had been watching the sky eagerly all evening, but it was too dark to see when an owl finally tapped on his window. Severus proceeded at a much faster pace than he usually did to the window, and was quite disappointed when he saw a brown barn owl peering in at him. He'd been expecting Hedwig. He opened the window, and the owl soared into the room, coming to light on the back of a kitchen chair and lifting its leg into the air for Severus to remove the letter tied to it. Severus did so gently, fed the bird a snack, and allowed it to rest while he read the missive.

_Dear Rafe:_

_Your charming boy has arrived safely. His eyes were as large as saucers when I first caught sight of him waiting to be sorted, and he gave me a huge smile when he finally spotted me. I will not spoil his surprise by telling you where he was sorted – he assured me he would be writing to you himself tonight._

_Our mutual friend kept a sharp eye on all the first years during the sorting. I'm sure he was looking for one particular child, and he seemed quite disappointed when he realized that he wasn't to be found among the group of youngsters. Our new potions master bears a remarkable resemblance to a man I used to know. I believe the Headmaster is using a more permanent means of achieving this remarkable return than what might be considered the obvious choice._

_I will be sure to keep an eye on Jamie. He seems so small compared to the others, but he's obviously eager to learn, and I know you've given him a solid magical foundation. I'll report to you regularly on his progress. If you have any questions in the meantime, please don't hesitate to let me know._

_Are you enjoying being childless again? The house must seem very empty this evening._

_Take care,_

_Minerva_

Severus rubbed his chin thoughtfully after finishing Minerva's letter. "A more permanent means," Severus thought, was code for Minerva's suspicion that the new potions professor was using a glamour, rather than polyjuice potion. Besides the obvious problem of getting his hands on Severus' hair to make as many batches of polyjuice potion as would be needed to continue this fraud for as long as Dumbledore needed the imposter to be here, whoever this person was would have to consume the potion hourly. A glamour could be applied each morning, in the privacy of the imposter's rooms, and no one would be the wiser. Severus wondered who it was that had the nerve to pretend to be him. Some day, he would find out, and they would be sorry.

Severus was dragged out of his thoughts by another owl tapping at the window. This time, it was _was _Hedwig, and Severus moved to the window again. Hedwig hooted happily at him as she hopped through the window and onto his shoulder. Severus reached up to stroke her beak, and she nipped at him affectionately. "Are they well, Hedwig?"

Hedwig's intelligent yellow eyes glowed in the affirmative (or so Severus thought), and Severus removed two tied scrolls from the owl's leg. Hedwig flapped over to her perch, drank from her water dish, and nibbled at the treats still in her feed cup. Severus looked at the scrolls. One of them said "Granger" and the other "Carnaby." Knowing that the Grangers were just as anxious as he was for news from their child, he immediately took Hermione's letter over to them before reading his letter from Harry. When he returned, Hedwig was sleeping on her perch, her head tucked beneath her wing. The school owl had departed through the window Severus had left open.

Eagerly, Severus settled himself in the sitting room and unrolled Harry's letter.

_Hi, Dad! _

_GRYFFINDOR! Both me and Hermione were sorted into Gryffindor! I was so relieved that we were put into the same house. The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, but Hermione had already been sorted into Gryffindor, so I argued with it, and I won! (I think that's the first time I've ever won an argument – God knows I never do with you or Hermione!) So I'm in Aunt Minerva's house. She seemed pretty excited. I could tell she wanted to hug me, but she restrained herself. _

_The train ride here was awesome. Both me and Hermione ate tons of snacks from the trolley (don't tell her mum and dad!). We met a boy on the train – Ron Weasley. He's wicked nice, and he was sorted into Gryffindor, too. I think we're gonna be good friends. Hermione likes him, too._

_The dorm here is really cool – it's in a tower, so the room is a circle. Besides me and Ron, there are three other boys here. They all seem really nice. _

_Dinner was AWESOME! You wouldn't believe how much food there was! I think I ate too much – my belly hurts. I could use one of your draughts right about now. _

_This castle is awesome. I can't wait to start exploring it. It looks really huge – I hope I don't get lost. Aunt Minerva said we'll get our schedules tomorrow, so I don't know what classes I have yet. I'll write again when I know._

_Well, I think I'll go to sleep now. It's been a really long and tiring day. I miss you a lot, Dad. I hope you're not sitting around missing me too much. We really need to think about getting you a dog. _

_Love you. Write back soon, okay?_

_Your son,_

_Jamie_

Cursing himself for a sentimental fool, Severus wiped a lone tear from his cheek, grabbed a pen, and began to write responses to the boy he loved more than anyone else in the world and the woman he considered his oldest friend.

##########

Harry had really been looking forward to his first potions class. He wanted to do well in this class because it seemed important to his father, and he sat eagerly at his bench between Hermione and Ron. He was much impressed when Professor Snape swooped into the room, his teaching robes fluttering majestically as he moved. After taking roll call, the Professor stood at the front of the room, surveying them all, his black eyes glaring, a sneer on his lips.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word – like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

The only thing that broke the silence following this little speech was the sound of Harry's quill scratching over parchment. He was writing down as much of what the Professor had said as possible. He was _going_ to do well in this class – he _would_ make his father proud. Beside him, Hermione fidgeted on the edge of her seat, looking desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

The only student who was not looking at him drew his attention. "Carnaby!" Snape barked, causing Harry to jerk upright suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

_Powdered root of what to an infusion of what?_ Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was. He looked at Hermione, but she was looking up at the Professor, her hand in the air.

Harry gave up looking for help. "I don't know, sir," he said.

Snape's lip curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut – perhaps you should have opened your text books over the summer." The Slytherins in the room began to titter behind their hands.

"I did!" Harry protested. He'd gone through the entire book with his father, and he remembered nothing about wormywood or appledels or whatever the hell the Professor had said. Did Snape expect him to remember _everything _in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_?

"Let's try again, Carnaby. Where would you look if I told you to go find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were now shaking with laughter. What had he done to them, to make them take this much delight in his humiliation?

Professor Snape was ignoring Hermione's attempts to get his attention, and his eyes bored into Harry's.

"I don't know, sir," Harry confessed. He forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes, refusing to be intimidated.

"What is the difference, Carnaby, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape continued his attack.

At this, Hermione actually stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," Harry said quietly. "I think Hermione does, though. Why don't you try her?"

A few of the Gryffindors laughed. Harry caught Seamus' eye, and Seamus winked.

Snape, however, was not pleased. "Sit down, you foolish girl," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Carnaby, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you copying that down?"

Though the comment seemed to be directed at Harry, there was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment as everyone in the room began preparing to take notes. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Carnaby."

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up allover his nose.

"Take him to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You – Carnaby – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron. "Don't push it," he muttered. "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racing and his spirits were low. He'd lost two points for Gryffindor in his very first week, and it was evident that he'd done something to anger the Professor, though he had no idea what.

"Charlie and Bill told me that he always picks a first-year student to torment," Ron offered. "I haven't decided yet if he's chosen you or Neville."

"But I didn't _do_ anything!" Harry protested. "Neville melted his cauldron, so in some twisted way I could see him coming down hard on Neville, but all I was doing was taking notes when he tore into me!"

Hermione came up alongside him and took his hand into hers and gave it an encouraging squeeze. "Let's hope it gets better next lesson."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, but he had a bad feeling it wasn't going to get better.

##########

_Hi, Dad._

_It's me. (You knew that, right? Who else would call you Dad?) It's Friday night, and our first full week of classes is finished. I wanted to tell you a bit about them. _

_Every Wednesday night, we have to go up to the top of the astronomy tower and study the stars and planets. It's at midnight, and it's very hard to stay awake. I hope we don't have that class in the winter – it's going to be awful cold up there. Do we have class if it's raining and we can't see the stars? _

_We have Professor Sprout for Herbology. It's kind of boring, but some of the plants we'll be learning about seem sort of interesting. Some of them you already taught to us. There's a class called Care of Magical Creatures, and I'd much rather take that, but that doesn't come 'til third year. They have a giant guy teaching that class. He's really huge and has lots of hair. Ron and I were taking a walk around the lake, and we ran into him. His name is Hagrid. Ron's older brothers know him, and Hagrid invited us to tea. We went this afternoon. He looked a little scary at first, but he's very nice. If you ever meet him, I strongly advise you __not__ to eat his rock cakes. He has a dog named Fang. That dog is huge! We don't need to get a dog that big – just a regular sized one would be okay._

_The most boring thing in the whole entire world is History of Magic. Hermione took tons and tons of notes, but I had all I could do to stay awake. The class is taught by a ghost! I think he was alive when all this stuff was going on, so he probably finds all of it interesting, but I think it's duller than dirt. I'll warn you now – I probably won't do very well in that class._

_Charms is taught by Professor Flitwick. He's so small, he has to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk! He seems pretty cool though and I think that class will be okay._

_Aunt Minerva is teaching us transfiguration. She pretended she didn't know me in class. She was a little scary, Dad! I plan to be on my best behavior in that class. I would not want to get on her bad side. (Please don't tell her I said that.) She changed her desk into a pig. Isn't that awesome?! I wish I could do that, though I'd probably change it into a dog instead (hint, hint). Hermione was awesome – she was the only one of us who could turn a match into a needle. I tried really hard, but it just wouldn't change. I blame the match. _

_I was really looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts, but it turned out to be a bit of a joke. Professor Quirrell is really weird. He wears this turban on his head, and he smells like garlic. I think he has vampirephobia (is that a word?) He told us this really lame story about a zombie, but I didn't believe a word of it. He's like the most timid bloke you can imagine. I had a headache the entire time of his class though, so my perception might be a bit off because of that._

_The last class of the week was potions. I know you'll be interested to hear about that class especially. The professor is Severus Snape, and for some reason, he seems not to like me very much. He asked me a bunch of questions in class that I didn't know the answers to. Then he crabbed at me for not knowing the answers and not opening my book this summer. You know I did! But the stuff he asked me wasn't in the book, so how was I supposed to know? Hermione knew, but she's probably read ahead like three years. Maybe he was just having a bad day. He's got a really big nose and this dark stringy hair, and he looks a lot like a vampire. (Maybe I can get Professor Quirrell to garlic him into submission.) I figure we started out on the wrong foot, so it's got to get better, right? We made a boil potion, and I think I did a good job with it. Another boy, Neville, melted his cauldron, which Snape somehow blamed me for. If I called him a git, would you say that was disrespectful? How about if I call him Professor Git? Neville had to go to the hospital wing, but he's okay._

_So that was my first week. I like it here a lot, but I miss you all the time. Probably you're so busy you don't even think about me, right? I'm doing okay. Ron is my best friend (aside from Hermione of course), and I wish you could meet him. Maybe he could come and stay with us over Christmas break? Just something for you to think about. Hermione's doing great. She's the smartest kid here, I think. I'm glad she's my friend – maybe she'll just let me copy everything she does, and then everyone will think I'm brilliant, too. Good idea, right?_

_I'm yawning all over the place and my hand is about to fall off, so I think I'll end this here. Hermione said she was gonna write a letter home, too, so I'll wait until tomorrow to send this so that Hedwig can bring both letters at once._

_I miss you, Dad, and I love you. Write back soon so I'll know you haven't forgotten me. _

_Your Gryffindor son,_

_Jamie_

_P.S. Have you given any thought to my idea about getting a dog?_

##########

After two weeks of being belittled, humiliated, and disparaged constantly in potions class, Harry had come to the conclusion that Professor Snape had not just been having a bad day when they met in their first potions class. Snape seemed to have it in for Jamie Carnaby, and the boy was at a loss as to why that might be. He'd done nothing to antagonize the man, and in fact went out of his way to avoid him. He'd lost Gryffindor house fifty points in two weeks, all of them at Snape's hands, and had been sentenced to detention twice with Filch. It was blatantly obvious enough that Minerva McGonagall approached Harry about it (as his Head of House and not as his honorary aunt), but Harry had no explanation to offer her as to why Snape was being the way he was.

When nothing changed after another month, Harry was beginning to despair. Hermione was urging him to go to Dumbledore, but Harry didn't think the Headmaster would be interested in the trials of a puny first-year. She nagged him to tell his father, but what could Dad do about it as far away as he was? He'd spoken again with Aunt Minerva, but she was reluctant to make too many waves, because she knew that "Severus Snape" was not Severus Snape. She didn't know what Dumbledore's game was in bringing this imposter here, or who the imposter was, or why Jamie Carnaby had been targeted. She could only shield the boy so much.

##########

Harry _had _whined in his letters home that Snape was unfair and picked on him, but had not reported the entire extent of the maltreatment. Dad had apparently not taken it seriously, until he received Jamie's first semester progress report and learned that Jamie was failing potions. After consulting with Minerva and discussing the best way to proceed, Rafe Carnaby wrote a letter to his son's Head of House, asking that she intervene with the Headmaster and look into the allegation that the potions master was treating his son unfairly. Severus wanted badly to go to Hogwarts himself, but he couldn't risk Dumbledore recognizing his magical signature.

Harry was incredibly nervous as he walked up to the Headmaster's office with Professor McGonagall. He knew where he was going and why, and he couldn't help but think that this was pointless. He'd seen plenty of bullies in primary school, and they always got worse after they'd been called on their behavior. Dad hadn't told him he was going to meddle, or he would have tried to talk him out of it. Harry hated potions class, but he'd learned to tolerate it as it was, and he really didn't want it to get any harder.

What he was feeling must have shown on his face, because before they entered the Headmaster's office, Aunt Minerva said, "Buck up, Mr. Carnaby. It's not as bad as all that."

But Harry thought it probably was.

Professor McGonagall gestured for Harry to proceed her into the room, and he did so hesitantly. His feet stopped moving when he saw Professor Snape sitting in a chair before Dumbledore's desk.

Albus stood up from behind his desk. "Ah, Mr. Carnaby. Professor McGonagall. Please, come in and have a seat." Harry shot over to the chair furthest away from Snape before Aunt Minerva could claim it and make him sit next to his hated professor.

"Would anyone like a cup of tea?" the Headmaster offered.

All declined, and Dumbledore sat back into his chair. Harry's legs were too short to reach the floor, and he kicked his feet nervously back and forth, back and forth, wishing he were anywhere but here.

"We are here," the Headmaster began, "because we have received a letter of . . . inquiry from a parent concerned about his son's potions grade. Mr. Carnaby, your father professes surprise to learn that you are failing potions. He states that you are an accomplished brewer, that he has taught you himself at home, and that you have a very good grasp of the first-year course material. I have reviewed your potions grades, which are, quite frankly, abysmal. Therefore, I am having a difficult time reconciling the potions student your father believes you to be and the student I see in these records. Do you have any information with might enlighten me?"

"No, sir," Harry said, studying the laces on his trainers.

"Are you having difficulty understanding the text book?"

"No, sir."

"Have you found it difficult to finish your homework assignments?"

"No, sir. I've turned in every assignment."

"So is it the practical work that gives you trouble? The brewing itself?"

"No, sir." His brewing was just fine when he was left alone, when Draco Malfoy wasn't actively trying to sabotage his potion and when Professor Snape wasn't prowling around watching for him to make the tiniest mis-step so he could pounce and belittle and humiliate. But Harry knew better than to say any of this, so he remained silent.

"Professor Snape," Dumbledore said, turning to the man who had sat sneering silently while the Headmaster quizzed the boy. "Do you have anything to say?"

Snape sat up straight in his chair and looked down his substantial nose at Harry. "Despite what this boy's father thinks of his ability, I find Mr. Carnaby to be a lazy, uninspired, and less than average student. His written work is sloppy, ill-conceived, and poorly thought through. In class he is sullen and disrespectful, both with me and with his fellow students. His potions are almost always so fundamentally flawed as to be unrecognizable. He has earned the grade he has been given, and I would suggest that his father is delusional if he thinks this boy has even a minuscule chance of becoming a competent brewer."

Harry's head came up now, his eyes flashing, not at the insults to himself, but at the jab aimed at his father. _No one_ insulted his father. "Keep my father out of this!" he growled.

Minerva placed a restraining hand on his knee, and Dumbledore looked down at him disapprovingly. "Let's keep our tempers, shall we?"

"I'll keep my temper if he doesn't drag my father into this," Harry said petulantly.

"Professor Snape will confine his remarks to your performance and your performance alone," Dumbledore instructed his staff member.

"Professor McGonagall, have you anything to add?"

Minerva was surprised that the boy had not mentioned the bullying he'd been subjected to by the Snape-imposter. If this had been the actual Severus Snape, or another colleague, Minerva would never have interfered with a student-teacher relationship, short of actual physical harm being done to one of her Lions. But this was _not_ Severus Snape, and she did not like this game that Albus was playing. "I have heard complaints about Professor Snape's treatment of Gryffindors in general and Mr. Carnaby in particular."

"Complaints?" Dumbledore prodded.

"Bullying, Headmaster. I've heard complaints that Professor Snape is bullying Mr. Carnaby, unfairly judging his work, allowing other students in the class to harass him and interfere with his potions."

"Headmaster," Severus interjected. "I want it stated, for the record, that Professor McGonagall has a familial relationship with this particular student."

"Are you accusing me of nepotism?" Minerva asked, incensed.

Snape looked down his nose at her, his expression clearly stating, "If the shoe fits . . ."

"Please," Dumbledore said, raising a hand to stop their bickering. "Mr. Carnaby, have you anything to say about these allegations?"

"No, sir," Jamie said,

Minerva would not let it go. "I have discussed with Jamie on more than one occasion the point loss and the detentions. I have also spoken with several of his classmates. Taking into account the fact that young people tend to minimize their own contributions to situations like this, I do believe that many of the detentions and point losses were unwarranted."

"Be that as it may, there is very little I can do without a complaint from the affected student. If Mr. Carnaby refuses to shed any light on this situation, I'm afraid we are done here."

They were all looking at Harry now – he could feel it. But he remained silent, because he had the rest of his career here at Hogwarts to deal with Snape. Making an acknowledged enemy of him now, in his very first year, was a mistake he did not intend to make. He would keep quiet, hope Snape didn't get any worse because of this interference by others, and deal with him as best he could.

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "Mr. Carnaby, thank you for coming. You may return to your common room now."

Harry stood up quickly, eager to be out of here. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Minerva, that will be all," Dumbledore said, dismissing her as well.

Angry with him, with this faux-Snape, and with Harry, Minerva got up and followed Harry out, already composing in her head the letter she would send to the real Severus as soon as she returned to her quarters.

"Back off the boy," Dumbledore instructed softly the man sitting before him. "I know you've chosen him as your target, as the real Severus Snape was wont to do. But he clearly is afraid to anger you further, which makes me believe you have been overzealous in your attempt to play your part. While I appreciate your enthusiasm, ease up a little. Thank you. That will be all."

##########

Harry was surprised when Snape began to largely ignore him. He still wasn't nice, and he still made disparaging comments from time to time, but he was leaving Harry alone for the most part, and Harry's grade began to slowly and steadily climb.

##########

_Dad! I did it! I made the quidditch team! _Severus could almost feel the boy's excitement leaping off the page at him. _I'm the youngest Seeker at Hogwarts in a century. Can you believe it? I've been doing pretty good in our flying lessons, and at the tryout, I was the only one who even _saw_ the snitch. I caught it, too! Our Captain, Oliver Wood, seemed really excited and kept mumbling about finally winning the cup. Our first match is in early November. I'll let you know once we have the date. Do you think you can come? Please, Dad, please. That would be so brilliant if you were there. _

_Snape has been a little better since our meeting with him. He's still nasty, but at least he's not ruining my potions or throwing them away. I'll try really hard to make up for the grades he gave me earlier. I do _not_ want to have to repeat first-year potions!_

_How are things are home? Lonely? A dog would help, don't you think? (wink, wink)_

Please_ say you'll come for the match. I'll write as soon as I know when._

_Love your son, Jamie_

##########

_Dear Mr. Carnaby:_

_Note I address you as Mr. Carnaby, as I send you this letter as your son's Head of House and not your cousin._

_I must inform you of a situation in which your son was involved last evening. Before I explain, please be aware that Jamie is fine and suffered no injury from his ordeal. _

_During the Halloween feast, a troll was somehow let loose in the school. The Headmaster ordered all students back to their dormitories while the staff attempted to locate and dispose of the troll. Your son, for reasons he has not fully or satisfactorily explained, went in search of the troll, encountered it in a girls' lavatory, and knocked it unconscious. He was accompanied in this little adventure by Miss Granger and Mr. Ronald Weasley. The story presented was of Miss Granger going in search of the troll in a misguided belief that she could contain it herself, and Mr. Weasley and your son simply happening along and saving her. I did not believe a word of it, though it is apparent the children were incomprehensibly brave and resourceful when faced with an unknown and highly dangerous creature. _

_Points have been taken and given where appropriate, and the matter is considered closed. Thankfully, the incident ended with no injury (except, of course, those sustained by the troll), and hopefully, the three involved miscreants have learned a lesson._

_Jamie is fine, Rafe, and there is no need for you to come here. He sustained not so much as a hair out of place during the entire ordeal. I write this letter simply to inform you and to suggest that the next time you see your son, you speak with him about making better choices regarding his own personal safety._

_Be well, my friend,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

##########

Severus sat in the visitor section, scanning the air over the pitch as the quidditch teams took their positions. He noticed the "Carnaby for President" sign across the way, in the midst of a sea of maroon and gold, and rolled his eyes. His keen eye picked Hermione out of the crowd. Next to her was a boy with red hair, who could only be Harry's new friend and fellow troublemaker, Ronald Weasley. The Weasleys were good people, and Harry could do worse for a friend, he supposed. Severus focused on Harry and noticed the boy's eyes skimming through the seats. When they finally landed on his father, Harry's eyes lit up, and a large smile overcame his face. He waved vigorously and made as if to fly toward Snape when a barked command from his team captain had him returning to formation, his head hanging sheepishly. Severus smiled at the boy's eager foolishness.

Severus had forgotten just how exciting quidditch was. At the sound of the whistle announcing the start of the match, the crowd roared in anticipation. Severus watched the play avidly, shaking his head at Harry's spontaneous loops in the air, nearly falling out of his seat when Harry was almost hit by a bludger, and roaring his outrage along with the Gryffindor contingent when the Slytherin captain cheap-shotted Harry nearly off his broom.

It was a moment or two before Severus realized something was wrong. Harry had begun drifting higher and higher, away from play. When Severus looked closely, he could see that the broom was twitching and that Harry had a very tight grip on its handle. He couldn't see the boy's face and didn't know if Harry was merely burning off nervous energy while waiting for another glimpse of the snitch or if he was worried.

Suddenly, Harry rolled on his broom, over and over again. Severus could tell that Harry was barely holding on, and he stood, his concern for his son forcing him to his feet and calling at him to take action. If this continued, Harry would surely lose his hold and fall to the ground. But what was going on here? Brooms didn't just suddenly decide to throw their riders. Not without a reason. Trying to keep one eye on Harry to catch him if he did fall, Severus scanned the crowd, trying to find a reason for the broom's odd behavior. It was no use, though. Almost everyone was on their feet, staring and pointing at Harry in concern. It was obvious to Severus, though, that someone was jinxing Harry's broom. Knowing who was doing it wasn't important to the counter-curse, and Severus began to incant, just as Harry's broom succeeded in throwing him off. Harry was now dangling from his broom, a hundred meters above the ground.

Two identical red-heads (more Weasleys, Severus reckoned in the tiny part of his mind that wasn't centered on protecting his son from this curse) tried to fly close to Harry, to help him onto another broom, but every time they came close, Harry's broom would jerk him higher. Harry's eyes were wide with fear, and Severus didn't know how much longer the boy could hold on. He kept incanting, readying himself at any moment to cast a cushioning charm should Harry fall.

Suddenly, whatever was happening to Harry's broom ceased, and it took a moment for Severus to figure out he could stop his efforts to keep Harry in the air. Harry was able to swing back onto his broom and almost immediately shot toward the ground. Severus, and probably everyone else, assumed Harry just wanted to get his feet back on terra firma, but suddenly the boy clapped his hand over his mouth and rolled off his broom, landing on the pitch on all fours. He coughed into his hand, then held the glittering, fluttering snitch up into the air. Pandemonium broke out, Harry was surrounded by his teammates, and Severus could no longer see him. He began to make his way down toward the field.

He met Minerva on the outskirts of the crowd that had filled the field after Harry's tumultuous, exhilarating flight and catch. He caught her eye and asked, "What just happened?"

"I have no idea. But I plan to find out. Come, Rafe, they'll be a while. Let's get a cup of tea and talk while we wait."

They sat in Minerva's office, just down the hall from the entrance to Gryffindor tower, certain they would hear the victorious students' return. They both agreed that someone had tried to curse Harry off his broom, but neither had been able to ascertain who had done the cursing or why it had stopped.

The returning students could be heard two floors away, and they waited in the doorway for the crowd to flow past. When Severus spotted Harry, he grabbed the boy by the arm and yanked him into Minerva's office.

"Hey!" the boy yelped in protest, but when he felt his father's arms around him, he relaxed into the tight embrace.

"Jamie, my son," Severus murmured into his hair. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Dad," he muttered into the man's shirt. He let his father hold him for a moment, then said, "I can't breathe, Dad. Can you let me go now?"

Severus immediately lowered his arms and stepped back. "I'm sorry. Are you sure you're quite all right?"

"I'm fine, Dad, really," Harry said firmly, worried that his father would use this incident as an excuse to make him stop playing quidditch.

"What happened?"

"I don't know," Harry said truthfully. "One minute I was fine, and the next . . . That broom is awesome, Aunt Minerva! Thank you so much!"

"Jamie, that broom tried to throw you off," McGonagall pointed out.

Harry shrugged. "It wasn't the broom's fault. Something just happened. There's gonna be a party in the common room. Is it okay if I go?"

"Of course it is," Severus said, stealing another quick hug, needing to feel the solidness of this child after the near-death experience. "I love you, son. Go."

"Love you, too, Dad," Harry said, and he was gone.

"Where is the Headmaster?" Severus asked once he was gone.

"I don't know. He left the castle this morning and said he would not return until nightfall. When he does, I shall be sure to speak with him about this."

"Someone in that crowd tried to jinx my son, Minerva," Severus said. "I am beginning to believe that Hogwarts is not safe for him."

"Let's not make any hasty decisions," she said soothingly, trying to stave off an attempt by Severus to pull the boy out of school. "I will continue to keep an eye on him. I will speak with the Headmaster. We will not let anything happen to Jamie. _I_ will not let anything happen to him. You know that."

Severus did know that Minerva would do everything within her power to keep Harry safe. But she couldn't be everywhere, and there seemed to be some deep dark power at work here. He wouldn't pull Harry out of school, but if another incident occurred, he would certainly reconsider.

Severus sighed. "He's all I have, Minerva. If something happened to him . . ."

"Nothing will happen to him, Rafe. He is a good boy and a promising young wizard, and I love him like my own. No harm shall come to him while I am here."

Severus wanted to believe that, but he knew how life could be. Risk was inherent, for everyone, but even more so for the savior who was hiding in plain sight.

##########

Harry hopped off the Hogwarts Express, looking excitedly for his father. The platform was decorated in red and green for Christmas, and the air was festive, the mood light. Thankfully, his dad was tall, and Harry spotted him at the same time that Severus' eyes fell on his son. A warm smile overtook Severus' face, and by the time Harry reached him, the man looked downright pleased.

"Jamie," he said, opening his arms.

Harry lost no time burying himself in his father's thick Muggle coat until Severus pulled Harry up into his arms to hug him properly. Pleased but a little embarrassed (he was eleven after all), Harry allowed the affectionate embrace for a moment before wriggling his way back down to the ground. After a quick check to make sure no one had seen him being hugged by his father, Harry beamed up at Severus and said, "Hi, Dad."

"Hi yourself, Jamie," Severus responded. "How was the trip?"

"It was good. Long, though. I'm glad it's over. Hello, Aunt Annabelle and Uncle Clive." The Grangers had been waiting with Severus and were currently in the middle of a reunion with their daughter. Hermione seemed not at all perturbed by the public display of affection. But then, she was a girl.

"Hello, Jamie," Clive said, ruffling Harry's hair playfully. "Good term?"

"Excellent," Harry assured him. "Hermione's best in our year, hands down."

Hermione smiled warmly at Harry. "It's good to be home, isn't it?"

"It sure is," Harry agreed with a smile up at his father.

"I thought we'd get dinner with the Grangers in the city before heading home," Severus said. "Is that acceptable?"

Harry and Hermione shared a happy smile. "Brilliant!" they both said.

##########

Dinner had been fun, but Harry thought it was marvelous being back home again, in his own house, his own room. Except that his room was filled with a bunch of unfamiliar boxes, lined up against one wall.

"Dad, what are all these boxes in my room?"

"Oh, sorry, I meant to mention that. It's just some things I'm storing. Sorry about putting them in your room, but space was limited. I'll have them out of there soon. Please stay out of them, though, if you don't mind."

"A bloke goes off to school for a couple of months, thinking that his father will be missing him terribly while he's gone, only he comes home to discover that his room has been taken over," Harry teased. "Thanks for leaving the bed anyway."

"Brat," Severus chided. "You know I missed you. There wasn't anyone here to annoy me now, was there?"

Harry smiled. "We all have our skill sets, right? Can we go shopping tomorrow?" he asked, helping himself to a biscuit.

"How can you be hungry, after all you just ate?"

"I'm a growing boy. So can we? I haven't had a chance to shop for you or Hermione or the Grangers or anybody."

"And who is 'anybody'? You just mentioned everyone you know."

"Well, I thought I might get Ron something and send Hedwig with it. And Aunt Minerva. Hermione's leaving tomorrow afternoon to spend the holiday with her grandparents, so we'd need to go in the morning so I can give her her gift before she goes."

Severus seemed to mull that over. "Yes, we can go shopping first thing tomorrow." Actually, that fit in very well with his plans. "I invited a friend for lunch tomorrow, so we can go shopping and then come back here for lunch. Will that work?"

"It should. Where will we go?" Harry asked, completely skipping over the "friend for lunch" part of that, his attention centered on shopping. "Muggle or wizard?"

"That depends on what you want to shop for," Severus pointed out.

"Both, I think. Can we do that?"

"As long as we don't take too long in either, we can do that."

"I'll need money."

Severus smiled. "Imagine my surprise."

"So do you think Ron might be able to come and stay with us for a couple of days?" Harry asked as he went to the refrigerator and poured himself a glass of milk. "You met his parents. They seem decent."

Rafe Carnaby had been "introduced" to Molly and Arthur Weasley on the platform amidst a crowd of excited Weasley children. Severus, of course, knew the Weasleys well enough to know that they were, indeed, "decent."

"I think we might be able to work something out," Severus conceded. Harry having a friend here for a few days might take his mind off of . . . other things.

Harry drained his glass of milk, rinsed the glass and left it in the sink. "I'm knackered," he said. "Think I'll turn in now."

Severus pulled Harry into another hug. "Welcome home, son."

"Thanks, Dad," Harry said, hugging him back. "Good night."

##########

Shopping had been hectic but fun. Harry had managed to find presents for everyone on his list, and as soon as they returned, he raced over to Hermione's to bring her her present and insist that she open it right away. She was thrilled by the book about famous witches in European history he'd purchased for her at Flourish & Blotts. In exchange, she gave him a book about Quidditch which Harry couldn't wait to start reading and a box of Chocolate Frogs.

When Harry returned, he attached his present for Ron (a Chudley Cannons jersey) to Hedwig's leg and sent her off with an affectionate pat on the head and an extra owl treat for the trouble. He and Dad had sent their presents for Aunt Minerva directly from Flourish & Blotts. When he returned from the backyard after releasing the bird, he found a stranger in their kitchen.

"Ah, Jamie," Severus said, fixing a bright and rather fake smile to his face, "there's someone here I want you to meet." Severus put both hands on Harry's shoulders and presented him to the woman. She was short, a little overweight, and only pretty enough not to be called plain. "Jamie, this is Constance Pilkington. Constance, this is my son, Jamie."

The woman knelt down before Harry and smiled largely at him. "Jamie, it's so nice to finally meet you. Your father has told me so much about you."

Harry hated it when people treated him like a child. He may be small, but he was eleven years old for cripes sake. Kneeling down in front of him, like he was some toddler! Immediately he disliked this woman's patronizing attitude, and he just stared at her until the increased pressure of his father's hands on his shoulders reminded him to be polite. "It's um . . . nice to meet you, too. Dad hasn't mentioned _you _at all," he added.

Constance looked uneasily up at Severus, and her smile faltered a little. "Well, that's all right," she recovered a little, getting awkwardly to her feet. "We'll just have to get to know each other. I'm sure we're going to be great friends."

Harry doubted that, but he didn't say anything. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he dredged up the words _Regina Crown_, and he automatically stepped back, closer to his father. "Can I go to my room now?" he asked in a small voice.

"Of course," Severus said, bewildered by Harry's attitude. "Lunch will be ready in a few minutes."

Harry retreated quickly to his room and had to fight the urge to hide in his cupboard. He hadn't done that for years, but the thought that Severus was bringing someone else into their home, someone who might hurt him, someone like . . . _her_. Dad hadn't explained what she was doing here. He'd only said she was a friend. What exactly did that mean?

Harry curled up on his bed with his stuffed dragon, something else he hadn't done for years, trying to puzzle this out. Dad had acted very strangely when he'd introduced them, like it was very important to him that his son and this woman liked each other. If she was only a "friend", why would it matter if Harry liked her or not? Why would it matter if this Constance woman liked Harry? If they were only friends, they had plenty of opportunities to spend time with each other while Harry was away at school. All of this told Harry that this was something more than friendship, that his father was _involved_ with this woman, seriously enough to want Harry's good opinion of her.

With that thought, a suspicion crept into his mind, and he got off his bed to investigate. He pulled the top box off one of the stacks in his room, set it on the floor, and opened it. It was filled with books, and Harry opened one. Stamped on the inside cover: Library of Constance Pilkington. Harry tossed the book back into the box. These boxes all belonged to her. Why were they here, in Harry's room?

The truth hit Harry like a rogue bludger. Oh my God, she had moved in here while he was away at school! His father was involved with her, and she had moved in here! While he was away at school! And his father had told him none of this!

"Jamie!" Severus called from the kitchen. "Lunch!"

He got back into bed, pulled the covers up over his head, and hugged his dragon tightly, fighting tears What was he going to do? How could he go out there and face them? He felt as though he was a little child again, alone and afraid. He felt as though his whole world had been ripped out from under him, like he'd been replaced when he wasn't even around to compete for his father's affections. Even his room had been taken over by this woman. If Hermione had been home, Harry likely would have gone out his window to talk to her, so she could help him puzzle this out. But she was gone, and he was on his own.

A soft knock on his door made Harry start, but he didn't come out of his cocoon. When he didn't answer, his father opened his door and poked his head into the room. "Jamie?"

Harry didn't respond and lay as still as possible under the blankets, hoping his father would just leave him be.

But Severus came further into the room. "Aren't you hungry, son?"

Still Harry didn't respond, and he felt his father sit on the edge of his bed. Gently but insistently, Severus pulled the blankets down away from Harry's face. "Jamie?"

"Not hungry," Harry muttered.

"Not hungry? That's not like you. Are you feeling all right?"

Harry curled tighter around his toy. "'m fine."

"I'd like it if you came out and had lunch with us," Severus said softly.

"Do I have to?"

"No, you don't have to. Not if you're truly not hungry. But I'd like it if you did. For me."

Harry would do anything for his dad. "All right," he said miserably. He sat up and scooted off the opposite side of the bed, away from his father, and went dejectedly out to the table.

Lunch was awkward and largely silent. _That woman _attempted to make conversation with him, but when his responses were grunts or one-word answers, she gave up with a helpless look at Severus. Severus was at a loss as to the cause for Harry's behavior. His son was normally very respectful and polite when meeting new people. When lunch was over, Harry gave in to the visceral pull and retired to his cupboard.

_##########_

This day had not gone at all the way that Harry had planned. It was Christmas Eve, and he and his father had developed a routine over the years. Normally, they decorated the tree several days before Christmas, but since Harry had gone away to school this year, they'd decided that rather than Severus doing it alone while Harry was away, they would wait until Christmas Eve and do it together. One of Harry's favorite meals, shrimp scampi, was the traditional fare for Christmas Eve dinner, with treacle tart for afters, and the evening was usually spent in front of the Christmas tree with cocoa and biscuits, holiday tunes playing on the radio, and a fire blazing warmly away while they spent quiet time together.

He'd planned to make a very vocal, very persistent last ditch effort for a dog for Christmas. His plan was to annoy his father so thoroughly that he gave in out of relief to have Harry leave him alone. As things were, however, Harry had no desire to leave his room and spend any time whatsoever with _that woman_. He half-heartedly wrapped his father's presents, then flipped through the book Hermione had given him, recent events sucking the pleasure out of even Quidditch. His father had poked his head into Harry's room after lunch and told him it was time to decorate the tree, and Harry had told him that he'd rather not. Dad had looked very disappointed, but hadn't challenged Harry's decision. Harry's afternoon had been very lonely and very un-holiday-like. He wished again that Hermione hadn't gone away, because he sure could use someone to talk to.

When Harry looked hesitant to come out of his room for dinner, Severus had put his foot down and insisted that Harry join them. Harry had done so, but he had no intention of making nice with _that woman._ He sat at the table, eyes cast down, until he lifted his head enough to see what was before him.

"Where's the shrimp?" he asked rather petulantly.

After a moment of silence, Severus said, "Constance is allergic to shellfish. We're having a nice roast instead."

Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from registering his unhappiness with this latest development. He couldn't even have his favorite dinner, which they _always_ had on Christmas Eve, because of _that woman_. Very pointedly, Harry declined the _nice roast _and confined himself to eating vegetables. He was going to have a slice of homemade bread, which he loved, until Severus very helpfully pointed out that Constance had made it. His dinner consisted of boiled potatoes, carrots, and pearl onions. He was still hungry when his plate was taken away. He even skipped the treacle tart, which somehow miraculously was allowed by _that woman_, and slunk back to his room, where he planned to stay for the remainder of the evening.

Some time later, Severus knocked and entered Harry's room without waiting for a response.

"Would you like to come out and sit by the tree with us?"

Harry was laying on his bed again, facing away from his father. "Kinda tired."

Severus sat on the edge of the bed. "Jamie, I know this is a change, and it's apparent that it's upsetting you. Can we talk about it?'

"'S'alright," Harry said half-heartedly, though it was far from alright.

"I like Constance, Jamie, quite a lot. I'm hoping that you will like her, too. I'm certain you will if you give her a chance. Won't you please reconsider and come out and join us?"

"No, thank you."

Severus sighed. "All right. I'll give you all the time you need. I've brought you in some cocoa and some biscuits. You didn't eat much at dinner or lunch. You must be hungry."

Harry didn't respond, and Severus stood up. "I'll just leave them here, shall I?"

"Fine," Harry muttered, and he lay still upon the bed until he heard his father leave the room.

Harry rolled onto his back and expelled the breath he'd been holding. His insides were churning, conflicted by his feelings. He could hear the yearning for acceptance in his father's voice, and he hated disappointing him, because that made him feel very small. But he couldn't do this – he couldn't just embrace _that woman_ who had been forced down his throat and injected into his life and his space. He didn't like her being here, and he couldn't understand why his father thought he needed her in his life. Wasn't Harry enough? He always used to be. What had changed?

Sad, but hungry, Harry sat up and retrieved the snack Dad had left beside his bed.

##########

Harry awoke early the following morning. He'd fallen asleep fully clothed on top of his bed, and he felt out of sorts and grumpy until it occurred to him what day it was. It was Christmas day, and he suddenly felt much happier. He leapt off his bed, quickly checked the time (5:30 a.m.), debated changing his clothes, decided against it (if Dad didn't notice, he wouldn't have to change later), and threw open his door, the unpleasant memories of yesterday forgotten in his excitement. He really should wait a while (he _was _eleven, after all), but Christmas morning was all about waking Dad up way too early to tear through the presents under the tree. Because he was eleven, and a whole year more mature than he'd been last Christmas, Harry considerately went into the kitchen and started the water for tea, sure that Dad would want a cup as soon as he dragged his sorry carcass out of bed.

On his way back through the living room, he stopped to look at the tree, and his steps faltered for a moment as he remembered that he'd had no hand in decorating it yesterday. It looked very nice, though (as though adults had decorated it, actually), and he found the cord to plug the lights in. Yesterday was over, and today was gonna be awesome. It was Christmas!

Harry tore into his father's room, without knocking, sure that Dad was still asleep. He always was when Harry woke at an ungodly hour on Christmas morning. His steps came to an immediate halt at the sight that greeted him, and his mouth fell open. His father's naked form, held up by his straightened arms, stretched out above the equally naked form of _that woman_, Dad between her spread legs, his naked arse pistoning up and down, _her_ writhing beneath him and making little noises almost like she was in pain, her breasts jiggling with the force of his thrusts. Harry stood there, aghast. He wasn't watching, not really, because he _certainly_ did_ not_ want to be witnessing this, but he couldn't seem to move or speak, so complete was his horror.

This went on for what felt like forever but was actually only a few seconds before _that woman_ opened her eyes and saw him standing there. "Rafe!" she yelped, looking at Harry with wide open eyes. She whacked him on the shoulder for good measure, so that he understood that her calling his name was not done in the throes of passion, but because she needed him to know that _his son was standing there, watching them have sex! _

Severus looked over his shoulder, but only long enough to see Harry, then he turned his face away and collapsed atop Constance. She tried simultaneously to wriggle completely beneath his larger form and to scramble for the covers, to get them underneath and out of view of the boy, but they were laying partially atop them and there was no moving them. Why was the boy just standing there?!

"Jameson Michael Carnaby, GET OUT!" Severus shouted, embarrassed beyond belief and angry, at himself for not locking the door and for not realizing that Harry would be up early on this day, and at Harry for just barging in here. He could tell the boy still had not moved, and aware that his arse was on display, he roared, "BOY, GET OUT!"

Finally jolted from his horror-induced trance by being called "boy" in that tone of voice, Harry turned and fled.

_##########_

Harry threw himself on his bed, too stunned even for the cupboard. He pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes, trying to rid himself of the image he'd just seen. He could _not_ deal with it, but it would not go away. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it: his father's bum going up and down, _that woman's_ tits bouncing. He'd never seen female parts, even in photos, and he was appalled. He'd certainly never seen his father's arse. Dad was very modest and kept himself covered at all times while in his son's presence. Even worse, every time he closed his eyes, he heard it: the little noises _she _was making, the slap of skin on skin, the anger in his father's voice, being called "boy" like that, which triggered a primal fear deep down inside he didn't even understand.

Harry wanted to leave, he wanted to get out of here right now, before his father came and punished him for what he'd done. But he didn't know where to go. He couldn't get back to Hogwarts on his own. He might be able to make it to King's Cross Station, but he was pretty sure the Express wouldn't be running on Christmas day. Hermione was gone, and he knew no one else he could go to. Maybe having a destination in mind wasn't important – maybe he should just go. He wasn't sure how he could ever look at his father again after what he'd seen. Maybe it would be better if he just left. Dad obviously didn't need him any more and probably wouldn't even miss him now that he had _her_. He wished he knew where Hermione's grandmother lived. Maybe he could break into the Grangers' house and hide there until they came back. They'd take care of him, he was sure.

Before Harry could begin to act on any of these vague and incredibly stupid plans, his father was in his room. Harry curled up tighter under the covers, wanting to disappear. Dad had sounded so angry at him. What would he do? Would he hit him? Dad had never hit him before, but Harry had never heard him so angry. Tears that had been trying to fall since he'd witnessed the horror squeezed their way out of his eyes now as he dissolved into a puddle of perfect misery.

"Jamie," Severus said, sitting on the bed. "Come here, please."

"No," Harry muttered, clutching the bed clothes tighter. "I can't. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"I'm sorry I . . . I . . . It's Christmas, and I . . ." Harry choked out a sob. "I just wanted . . . I always . . . I didn't know . . ."

"Hush, son," Severus said gently, aware that Harry was bordering on hysterical. "It's all right. Come here, please."

"Are you gonna hit me?" Harry asked in a small voice.

"Of course not!" Severus assured him, appalled that Harry would think him capable of that. "Why would I hit you?"

"Because I came in your room, because I saw . . ." Harry shuddered and his breath hitched.

"I would never hit you. You know that. Come here, please," he said once again.

Slowly, Harry crawled out of his nest of blankets and toward his father, unable to look up at him. When he was close enough, Severus grabbed him and pulled him into his lap, holding his boy close. That's when the torrential tears started, and Harry lost himself in them for a time. Severus rocked him gently, trying to reassure him and shush him, stroking his hair.

When Harry had quieted somewhat, Severus said, "Look at me."

"I can't," Harry said miserably, the horror of what he'd seen too great.

Severus pushed him away enough to cup Harry's chin in one large hand and forced the boy's head up. Harry squeezed his eyes shut. Severus used his other hand to gently brush away the tears that remained on Harry's reddened face. "Open your eyes."

Harry took a chance and complied. Instead of the frightening vision he'd witnessed earlier, he saw only his father, his beloved father, holding him in his lap and _not_ hitting him. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"No, _I'm _sorry," Severus countered. "That should not have happened. You should not have been put in that position. I was not thinking, and it is _I _who owe _you_ an apology."

"It's okay," Harry said, his voice still barely above a whisper, grateful beyond belief that his father wasn't still angry with him.

"Jamie, what you saw . . ." Severus faltered. He'd never spoken with his son about the birds and the bees, and he didn't want Jamie to misunderstand what he'd seen. He knew his cheeks were red – he could feel it – but he'd force himself to have this conversation because he owed it to the boy to make him understand. "Constance and I were – "

"Don't, okay?" Harry pleaded, lowering his eyes again. "I know what you were doing. Hermione told me about . . . that."

"Of course she did," Severus said, a little perturbed at the girl for discussing sex with his eleven-year old son. There was such a thing as being _too_ bright and precocious. "All right. If you have any questions . . ."

"Nope," Harry interrupted again, wanting to never think about sex again. Ever. He was quite sure that he would never be having sex, now that he'd witnessed just how . . . gross it was. "No questions. None at all."

"Do you think that we could just forget this ever happened and start Christmas over again?"

Harry didn't think he could ever forget what he'd seen, though he desperately wanted to. He thought about asking his father if there was some type of spell that could erase memories, but he didn't want his father to think he was a child, unable to handle this adult situation. So he lied. "Yeah. I'd like that."

"Good. Constance is making breakfast. But I thought we'd hit the tree first. What do you say?"

"Sounds great, Dad," Harry said, notably lacking in enthusiasm. He'd hoped that perhaps she'd been so embarrassed that she'd left. Apparently not.

Severus smiled, hoping this was behind them. In retrospect, he was somewhat relieved he'd not had to have the sex discussion with Harry, and he _was_ very sorry that Harry had seen what he'd seen, but at least Harry now knew that this relationship he had with Constance was serious, and hopefully the boy would now make more of an effort with her. He placed his son on the floor, took his hand, and led him into the sitting room.

##########

For the first time in the years since he'd come to be with his father, Harry found no joy in Christmas. He opened his presents dully and without energy, and he watched his father open the presents he'd shopped for with so much excitement yesterday as though it hardly mattered. There were presents to Dad from _her_, and vice versa, but Harry paid them no mind at all. Finally, when the last present had been opened, Harry was happy to move on to breakfast – he'd eaten very little of substance yesterday, and he was hungry.

But before he could get up from his place on the floor, Severus said, "There's one more thing, Jamie." He exchanged a secret look and smile with _that woman_, then stood up. "Wait here for just a few moments."

Severus stood up and left the room. Harry heard him moving about in the hallway, then the sound of the front door opening. What on earth? Where could Dad be going at this time on Christmas morning?

They waited in extremely awkward silence for many long minutes. Twice, _that woman_ opened her mouth, as though she intended to say something to him, but then thought better of it and remained silent. Finally – finally! – Dad returned. After apparently removing his coat and hanging it in the hallway, he entered the sitting room, a cardboard box in his hands.

He closed the lid down and set it on the floor in front of Harry. "This is from Constance," he announced.

Harry didn't want anything from Constance, other than perhaps an announcement that she was leaving and never coming back. Without looking up at either of them, he opened the lid and looked inside the box.

A very young black and white kitten sat looking up at him, all long fur and whiskers. It would have fit into one of his hands. While he stared down at it, it stretched itself up, trying to climb out of the box.

"I know that you wanted . . . ." Severus started to say, but Harry didn't want to hear it, and he rudely interrupted.

"I wanted a _dog_," he said, pushing the box away and hardening his heart against this cute creature being used as a bribe.

"Jamie." Harry could hear the warning note in his father's voice, but he didn't care. This was just too much. Dad knew that he'd wanted a dog all his life. He probably also suspected that Harry would settle for a cat if it meant that he was finally getting a pet. But to use the thing he desired most in this world as a way for _that woman _to buy his affection was just not on.

"I don't want it," he said firmly.

Severus reached down to grab Harry's elbows and pulled him roughly to his feet. In the process, the box tipped over, the kitten tumbled out, and he frightened his son. "Young man, you are being incredibly rude."

Harry was breathing fast through his mouth, which Severus should have recognized as a sign that the boy was afraid and on the verge of panicking. But he was angry with Harry and not yet ready to excuse his rudeness. Which only got worse.

"Just because you're fucking the fat bitch doesn't mean I have to . . ." Whatever else Harry was going to say was lost when his father slapped him, hard, across the face, still holding tightly to one elbow.

"You will apologize, immediately and sincerely, or you will spend the remainder of the day in your room," Severus threatened, his voice low with barely-controlled anger.

Harry, just as appalled and shocked at his language as his father was, nevertheless had no intention of apologizing, and he resolutely looked at his feet, refusing to pull away from his father or rub at the stinging cheek or let the tears fall that had sprung to his eyes at the ringing slap, his mouth set in a hard line.

"Very well," Severus said, and he used the grip on Harry's elbow to turn him forcefully and push him toward his room. "Go."

Harry stumbled and went.

_##########_

Severus stared at Constance after the door to Harry's room closed. "What have I done?" he asked in a tortured whisper.

"Oh, Rafe," she said, her voice filled with compassion. She went to take his hand. "Come and sit down."

As she led him to the sofa and sat him down, he said, "I swore to myself when I took him in that I would never . . . I told the boy this very morning that I would never hit him. And look what I've done. I slapped him! On Christmas day! I lost my temper, and I hit him. How can he ever forgive me? How can I ever forgive myself?"

"It's all right, Rafe," Constance soothed. "He's a child. Children say things, awful things sometimes, that they don't really mean. He's upset. You knew that. He's not reacting well to us. He just needs more time."

"I am so sorry that he said what he did. He is not normally a vulgar child."

"I know," Constance assured him. "He is your son. You have raised him to be a good boy. He is just in a situation that he doesn't know how to handle. He likely feels threatened by my presence in your life. Perhaps it's better if I just go home and let you spend Christmas with your son."

"There is no point in your leaving, Constance. He will be in his room."

"Oh, Rafe, you can't mean to make him stay there! It's Christmas!"

"He was aware of his alternatives, and he made his choice, knowing the consequences. He knows that I do not say things that I don't mean."

"And I'm normally in favor of firm discipline," she told him. "But it's Christmas, Rafe. No one's going to think less of your parenting skills if you're a little less rigid on Christmas day. Please, he's just a boy!"

"He's a boy who needs to understand that I am serious about you and he cannot speak to you that way without repercussions." Severus ran an agitated hand through his hair. "Perhaps I went about this all wrong. Perhaps I should have introduced you earlier. I knew over the summer that there was something between us. If I hadn't let it go so long, if he'd seen us together when we were less serious, perhaps he would have come around slowly."

Constance took one of his hands into hers. "We can't change that now. I will do whatever you need me to, Rafe. If we need to cool things for a while, to let him get used to this slowly, I can do that. I know we'd planned for me to move in here after the new year, but I've still got my old place, and I can stay there if I need to. That's one of the benefits to living in your parents' basement, right? I know how important your son is to you, and I have no intention of coming in between the two of you."

"Thank you, Constance. You've just reminded me of why I love you so much," Severus said, and he leaned in to kiss her. It was supposed to be just a brief kiss of gratitude, but their interrupted session this morning came back to haunt them, and they found themselves embracing tightly and snogging like teenagers.

Harry, unfortunately, picked that moment to open his bedroom door. He was silent for a moment before he said, "Is it all right if I come out to use the loo?" Because he'd been so excited when he woke this morning, he hadn't yet used the loo, and he really had to pee.

For an eleven-year old boy who was still undersized, Severus thought Harry was able to pack an awful lot of emotion into his voice. He heard anger and disgust and fear and sadness and rejection in there, and his heart ached just a little for the child. He pulled away from Constance, embarrassed that they'd been caught again, and said, "Of course it is."

Harry waited for his father to say more, to perhaps give him a reprieve to his sentence of solitary confinement, but when nothing more was forthcoming, he stalked to the bathroom, took care of business, and stalked back to his room.

##########

Harry returned to his cupboard, disgusted yet again. They'd been snogging on the couch! He'd seen older Gryffindors acting that way in the common room, but he'd thought grownups had more modesty and self-restraint. If he was going to have to witness them practically having sex every five minutes, he was going to spend most of his time vomiting. Harry left the cupboard long enough to retrieve his new quidditch book and a lamp. He plugged the lamp into the outlet by the cupboard, threaded the cord under the door, and turned it on. It was quite comfy in here with his blanket, his pillow, his dragon, and the light. Which was good, because he'd been spending a lot of time in here over the last couple of days. Harry couldn't really explain why he withdrew to this confined space whenever he was really upset, but he felt . . . safe here, like it was a haven from the chaos and violence of the outside world.

Violence. Dad had hit him. At the memory, Harry raised a hand to his still-aching cheek, still able to feel the blow. Not to mention the aching in his elbow where Dad had grabbed him – he was pretty sure he'd have bruises there tomorrow. Dad had said just this morning that he would never hit him, and Harry had believed him. An hour later, Dad had proved one of them a liar and the other a fool. Sure, Dad had been good to him all these years, but underneath, he was just like them – those people who used to care for him when he was small. Though he didn't think on that period of his life often, he could still remember snatches of times that were awful, filled with constant fear and pain and unhappiness.

Tears that Harry really didn't want to shed wouldn't be held back. Dad had hit him after he'd said something completely awful. Frankly, he didn't care how _that woman_ had reacted to what he'd said, but he cared deeply that his father was angry and disappointed. He was nearly certain now that Dad would return him to those awful relatives. Surely he wouldn't put up with this egregious behavior any longer. He had someone else in his life now, someone he obviously enjoyed snogging, and there probably wasn't room any longer for a boy, little as he was.

Harry curled up on the floor around the pain in his chest. Dad hated him. Dad was going to throw him out and let _that woman_ move in here. And worst of all, Harry _really_ wanted that kitten!

_##########_

"Let me?" Constance asked as Severus made to leave the kitchen with a breakfast tray.

Severus was pretty sure that wasn't a good idea, but she was looking at him so hopefully that he couldn't resist. "All right," he said hesitantly.

Constance took the tray with an encouraging smile. Severus accompanied her to Harry's door and knocked softly on it. Not expecting an answer, he nevertheless waited a respectful amount of time before opening it. Constance took a fortifying breath and pushed her way into the room.

Harry had heard the knock, and he'd quickly shut the lamp off, plunging the cupboard into total darkness. He wished fervently that they'd just leave him alone. He'd been sentenced here, they should just let him be to serve it.

"Jamie?" a female voice asked.

Oh God, it was _that woman_. Harry really wished to be left alone now. He wished it so hard he felt a bit of his magic leak out, and he clamped down on it hurriedly before really bad things began to happen. He didn't know if _that woman_ was even a witch, and doing magic around her was likely going to get him into even bigger trouble. If that were possible.

"Rafe," he heard her say. "He's not in here!" She sounded worried. Yeah, right. Probably be happy if he'd somehow disappeared. They could go back to the _sex _Harry kept interrupting.

"What?" he heard Dad say, and he could tell that his father had joined _that woman_ in his room. Several moments later, Dad said, almost too quietly for Harry to hear, "Oh. It's all right." Harry could almost picture his father pointing at the cupboard door to show _that woman_ where he was hiding, and he stuck his tongue out at both of them. He saw and heard the cupboard door handle turn, but the door did not open. Somehow, though there was no locking device on the knob, the door was stuck shut. Hmmm, accidental magic could be a useful thing.

"Jamie," Severus said from just outside the door. "There's breakfast here. I'll leave it on the bed."

Harry didn't answer. He wanted to tell them to shove their breakfast where the sun didn't shine, but he figured he was in enough trouble already, so kept his thoughts to himself. He waited a full fifteen minutes after he heard the door close, to be sure they were actually gone, before he turned the light back on, intending to read for a bit before he took a nap, sure that sleep would help him to ignore his growing hunger. He didn't know how he knew this, but he was as sure of it as that his name was Jameson Carnaby.

_##########_

When Severus brought Harry's lunch tray into the bedroom, he was disheartened to see that Harry was still in the cupboard and had not eaten his breakfast. It had hit him hard this morning when he'd realized that Harry had secreted himself in his cupboard. He must have been feeling very threatened if he'd resorted to the cupboard, and Severus felt even more ashamed for striking Harry. He set the lunch tray on the bed beside the untouched breakfast tray and approached the cupboard door. "Jamie?" he called softly. "Can we talk?"

No response. Was the boy even still in there? Had he somehow snuck out while he and Constance had been busy in the kitchen? Severus reached out with his magic and sensed Harry there, and he breathed a little easier. Perhaps the boy was sleeping. It must be terribly boring for a young boy to be confined to a cupboard for a long time. Or maybe he just wasn't ready to talk. In either case, Severus needed to get something off his chest.

"I'm sorry, son," he said, loudly enough so that Harry would hear him clearly. "I'm sorry that I hit you. I am terribly ashamed of myself for reacting that way. What you said was unconscionable, but I should not have struck you. I would like it if you would come out of there so that we can talk, the three of us, and try to work this out. Even if you don't want to talk, you've been punished more than enough. You may come out of your room whenever you're ready. It's Christmas day. I'd like to spend some time with you."

There was no response from the cupboard: no words, no movement, no nothing. Severus thought he heard a sniffle, and the thought that Harry had been crying in the cupboard all morning tore at his heart. He'd completely destroyed Harry's Christmas, and he felt so bad about that, but he didn't know how to make it up to the boy. If they could only talk! Apparently Harry wasn't ready yet, and Severus knew enough about the boy and children in general to understand that trying to force the issue now would be counter-productive.

"I've brought you some lunch. I wish you'd come out and eat. It's on your bed."

Severus picked up the breakfast tray and left the room.

Harry again waited a solid fifteen minutes, to make sure he'd really gone, before creeping out of the cupboard, retrieving the food that Dad had brought in, and returning to the cupboard to eat it.

_##########_

Supper was a repeat of breakfast and lunch: Severus attempting to coax Harry out, Harry refusing to acknowledge his presence, Harry waiting until Severus was gone to come out for food. Even the news that Constance had gone home wasn't enough to bring the boy out. Severus warded Harry's door so that he would know if his son left his room during the night, ate his own lonely supper, cleaned up, and went to bed. It had been a wholly unmerry holiday.

_##########_

When the morning arrived, Severus was up early and checking on Harry, who had slept in his cupboard. This had to end, today. Severus left him there for now and went out to make breakfast. When it was finished, he set it under a warming charm and returned to Harry's room.

He knocked smartly on the cupboard door, not really caring if the boy was awake or not. They were going to have this out. "Jamie. Son, wake up."

There was a rummaging sound inside the cupboard, but Harry did not speak. "If you don't come out, I'm going to open this door. We need to talk."

Severus hoped Harry would come out on his own, but when he did not, he made short work of dismantling Harry's childish lock on the door and opened it. "Come on out here. Breakfast is ready."

"Not hungry," Harry lied.

"Jamie, I'm done letting you push me away. We're going to talk. Breakfast is ready, so we might as well eat while we talk."

Defeated, Harry came out of the cupboard and went slowly out to the table.

Once Severus had served both himself and his son, he sat at the table, prepared to begin this difficult discussion. But Harry beat him to it.

"Can I go back to Hogwarts?"

"What? When? Now?"

"Yes." Harry's eyes were on his plate, but he wasn't eating. He looked the perfect picture of dejection.

"Do you _want _to go back to Hogwarts today?"

"I'd rather go back to Hogwarts than back to . . . them."

"Who is 'them'?"

"The people that I used to live with, before you came and took care of me. I don't want to go back to them. They weren't very nice to me, I think. If I can't go back to Hogwarts now, maybe I could stay with the Grangers until term starts up again and then go back to school. I can stay in my room until they get back from visiting Hermione's grandmother."

"Jamie, I have no idea what you are talking about."

"You're going to send me away, right?"

"Why would I send you away?" Severus asked bewildered.

"So you can be with her."

Severus dropped the fork he was about to pick up his eggs with. "Jamie, how could you . . .?" He quickly got out of his chair and crossed the space between them, dropping to his knees beside Harry's chair. He turned the startled boy to face him, chair and all, winced when the boy flinched back, and said, "Jameson Michael Carnaby, there is nothing on this earth more important to me than you are. _Nothing_. I am sorry if I have given you the impression that Constance is a priority over you. She is not. Do you understand me? I like her, very much. I might even love her. But you are my son, my heart, my soul, my reason for being. I would never send you away. There is nothing that you could do to make me send you away. I could not live without you."

Relieved beyond measure, Harry began to cry and threw himself into his father's arms, nearly knocking the man over backward onto his arse. Severus held him close to his chest, his own tears leaking from his eyes. When they both had themselves back together, Severus helped Harry to sit back in his chair. Harry wiped his face with his sleeve, embarrassed at his lack of control.

Severus sat back in his own chair, cleared his throat and said, "Now, let's try again. Jamie, look at me." When Harry did and he was sure he had the boy's attention, Severus said, "I want to apologize again for what I did yesterday. There is nothing that you could have done that should have caused me to react that way. I have never regretted anything more than I do striking you, and I hope that you can forgive me. We cannot move forward until I know that you do."

Harry was astonished to see that his father had tears in his eyes. He really did regret his actions, and Harry couldn't find it in himself to hold onto his anger over that single incident in the multitude of awful things that had happened in the last couple of days. He reached across the table and covered his father's large hand with his own small one. "It's all right, Dad. I forgive you. I would have hit me, too. I'm sorry about what I said."

"Don't excuse what I did. I regret it deeply. I know I said this yesterday, before I did what I did, but I _promise_ you, Jamie, that I will never raise a hand to you again. I also want to apologize to you for how I've handled this whole situation with Constance. I want you to understand how it happened. I met her months ago, and we became friends. Over the summer, I would see her while I was at work, and we became very close. When you went away to school, I had a lot of free time on my hands, and I invited her for a drink, then to dinner. We started seeing more and more of each other, and I realized that there was something about her, something that complemented me, that made me whole. We spent more and more time together, until being apart became difficult. I began to think that she and I might have a future together, and I realized a little too late that I needed to introduce the two of you.

"I wanted so badly for you to like her, maybe not as much as I do, not at first, but I wanted you to see how special she is and how much she could bring to our family. I should have introduced you months ago, but I found that it was too late to bring you in at the beginning. She and I talked about her moving in here, and this seemed like the right time. Obviously, I couldn't do that without having the two of you meet. I see now that I should not have made such firm plans with her without talking with you first. I apologize for that, and I hope it's not too late to do that now."

Harry had been eating while his father spoke. He still felt conflicted about all of this, but he so appreciated his father being up front with him, and he made an effort to give back.

"I wish you _had_ told me sooner, because the surprise of it all was what bothered me the most I think. I mean, I came home, and there was this stuff in my room, and this woman in my house, and I couldn't even have my favorite dinner on Christmas Eve because of her, and then . . ." Harry didn't want to think about the "and then", when he'd walked in on the two of them. "And then, she tried to buy me with a kitten."

"Okay, wait a moment. That was my idea," Severus explained. "I wanted so badly for you to like her, and I know how badly you've wanted a pet. And I know, Jamie. I know you wanted a dog, but a puppy is a tremendous amount of work, and you should be here when he's young so that the two of you can bond properly, so my idea was to give you a kitten now, and when you come home for the summer, we'll go, together, and we'll pick out a puppy for you. That way, you can be here for the training and all the responsibility that goes along with it."

"You mean it?" Harry asked, his face shining with excitement. "I can get a puppy? A real, live puppy?"

"Yes, I mean it. That's been my plan all along. I just executed it badly."

Harry's face fell a little. "Does my getting a puppy depend on me liking . . . Constance?"

"No, Jamie. Whether you like Constance or hate her, whether she remains in our lives or leaves us tomorrow, you will still have your puppy come summer."

Harry smiled again. "Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome, Jamie. And I want you to know that Constance and I have decided to slow things down a bit. She will not be moving in here. By the time you return for Easter break, her things will be gone from your room. We will continue to see each other while you are away, and when you return for the break in the spring, I will set up a proper meeting for the two of you. You will know it's coming, and you will have time to prepare yourself. But know one thing, Jamie – if you meet Constance properly, and you give her a fair chance, and you still don't like her, then I will end things with her. Because you, Jamie, are my priority, and I will not disrupt your life or your happiness for anything. Do you think you can live with that?"

"Yes, I think I can. Thank you for telling me."

"You're welcome," Severus said with a relieved smile.

They finished their breakfasts in comfortable silence. Just before Severus got up to clear away the dishes, Harry said, "Can I ask one thing?"

"Of course," Severus said, hoping the "one thing" didn't have anything to do with what Harry had witnessed in the bedroom.

"Can I still have the kitten?" He _really_ wanted the kitten back.

Severus smiled in relief. "She's at the Grangers. I thought you might reconsider."

##########

Harry had spent a happy couple of days getting to know his new kitten. He'd wanted a pet for so long, and he was enchanted by the adorable and playful ball of fur. He named her Skittles, and he spent every spare moment with her playing or patting her or letting her sleep in his lap. Their bond was instant and deep, and Harry didn't even mind having to clean the litter box.

On December 28, Hermione came home, and Harry immediately went to her house and dragged her back to his. He wanted to show her Skittles, and he had a lot to tell her.

"Did you have a nice Christmas, Jamie?" Hermione asked after she'd exclaimed enthusiastically over the kitten.

"No, it was horrible," Harry said sincerely. "I have so much to tell you."

Hermione set the kitten on the floor and sat cross-legged on the bed, facing Harry. "So spill."

"You're never gonna believe this. Dad has a girlfriend."

"WHAT?" Hermione squawked.

"Yeah. He's apparently been seeing her for months and hadn't told me. They're getting quite serious, apparently, and she was practically moved in here. Those boxes over there are hers."

"Wow. Is she nice?"

"I'm not really sure," Harry confessed. "He brought her here for lunch on the day before Christmas. He hadn't warned me or anything, so I was surprised and not very happy about having her here. Christmas has always been just me and Dad, you know? So I spent a lot of time in my room. She was here all day. She and Dad decorated the tree."

"They wouldn't let you help?" Hermione asked, appalled.

"No, they asked me, but I didn't want to. Decorating the tree is mine and Dad's job. He didn't even ask me if it was all right to have her here, interfering with all of our Christmas traditions. And then at supper, we couldn't even have our shrimp dinner because _she's_ allergic to shellfish."

"I'm sorry, Jamie. You must have been really upset."

"I wasn't happy," Harry agreed. "But it gets worse. So I went to bed on Christmas Eve all depressed about how the day had gone, but then I woke up on Christmas day, and it was all better. It was Christmas, right, and we were gonna have presents and spend the day together. So I went running into Dad's room really early, just like I always do, and _she_ was there."

"In his bed?" Hermione asked, aghast.

Harry swallowed thickly before continuing, the memory still extremely disturbing. There was never any thought on Harry's part about keeping this to himself: he told Hermione _everything_. "They were having sex, Hermione," he said, his voice low and outraged. "I saw them. It was . . ." He shuddered. "It was awful."

Hermione's hand came up to cover her open mouth. "Oh, Jamie. What happened then?"

"They saw me standing there. I was like frozen in place it was so horrifying. Then Dad yelled at me to go, and I went. I thought about running away. He was so angry! I thought sure he'd punish me. But he came into my room and talked a little and promised he would never hit me. Then he told me to come out so we could open presents. So we did, but it was just . . . wrong, you know?

"And then they gave me this box. They said it was from her. So I opened it, and Skittles was in there."

"_She_ gave you Skittles?"

"Not really. Hold on. Let me tell this. I told them I didn't want it, even though I really did, because it felt like she was trying to buy me, you know? So Dad told me I was being really rude. And then I said something awful, and Dad slapped me right across the face." Harry's face colored at this admission and he looked away.

"He _hit_ you? Jamie! Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay. That was a long time ago. But it hurt something awful, and it surprised me, because Dad's never hit me."

"What on earth did you say to make him react that way?" Hermione questioned. "Not that there's anything that you could say that would justify violence, but it's not like Uncle Rafe, so _something _must have provoked him."

Harry looked away again, embarrassed about what he'd said and how he'd acted.

"Jamie?" Hermione pursued, trying to catch his eye.

Harry sighed and faced the music. "I said just because he was fucking the fat bitch didn't mean I had to like her."

Hermione's hand went back up to cover her mouth. _"Jamie!_" She'd never heard her friend use words like that before, and she was beyond shocked and appalled.

"I know. I can't believe I said it either. So Dad slapped me and told me to apologize or spend the rest of the day in my room. I chose my room, and I stayed here all day. I have no idea what they did, but I spent Christmas here."

Skittles walked between them on the bed, and they both reached out to pat her. "But you got Skittles, so something changed?"

"Yeah, Dad came in at lunch time and told me I could come out, but I was feeling stubborn, and I stayed here all day. The next morning, Dad came in and made me go out to the table to eat and so we could talk. He apologized for hitting me. He was almost crying, Hermione, he was so upset about that. He explained they'd been seeing each other for a while and that he wished he'd introduced us sooner. They _were_ planning on moving in together, but now they're going to hold off. And he told me that Skittles was really from him, that he just wanted me to like her so bad and he thought that would help. _And _– and this is the best part – he said that when summer comes, I can get a dog!"

"Well that's good. I know you've always wanted one. But don't you think you were a little unfair, Jamie?"

"Huh? To who?" Harry's face was screwed up in confusion.

"To her. To both of them, really."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, your dad's been alone for a long time. If he finally found someone he'd like to spend time with, maybe you owe it to him to get to know her."

"He can spend all the time with her he likes when I'm not here," Harry pointed out.

"But that's not very fair to him. He loves you. And if he loves her, he'd probably like the two of you to get along and spend some time together. Like a family, Jamie. Wouldn't it be nice to have a mum?"

"She wouldn't be my mum, would she?" Harry challenged.

"Well not technically, but if you let her, she could be just as good. I don't know if she will, Jamie. I don't know her. I guess my point is, neither do you. Even if you don't think you could accept her as your mother, don't you owe it to your father to try if she could make him happy?"

Harry sighed. "Why do you have to be so mature and reasonable all the time, Hermione?" he teased.

"One of us has to be," she shot back with a smile.

"I wish you'd been around," Harry confessed. "I really needed someone to work all this out with."

"I'm sorry I wasn't. So what are you going to do?'

"I think it seems clear that I need to apologize to her. And I guess I could get to know her a little, see if she's good for Dad. I'm going to be leaving him in a few years, so it would be nice if someone was looking out for him, I guess."

Hermione smiled warmly at him. "I think that sounds like a great idea, Jamie. Now when's Ron coming?"

_##########_

Ron had flooed to the Carnaby home the following day with his mother. Hermione was there to greet him, and the three children immediately headed out to the backyard, where they spent the hours until dinner time building a snowman in the meager snow and pelting each other with snowballs. After dinner, Harry had introduced Ron to the delights of the home computer and the television. Ron was riveted by both and asked many questions which Harry couldn't even begin to answer. Thankfully, understanding wasn't necessary, and the boys spent their time until bedtime sprawled on the floor watching stupid programs on the telly, eating popcorn, wrestling and giggling.

Though slightly annoyed by the increased noise level (Harry and Hermione were never this noisy when they were together), Severus was pleased to see Harry having such a good time with his friend.

Ron spent two days with the Carnabys. When he left, he asked Harry to come back to the Burrow with him so that they could travel to King's Cross and catch the Hogwarts Express together, and as much as Harry would have liked to do that, he had other plans.

_##########_

Harry sipped his orange juice, watching his father. Well, actually he was watching the newspaper, behind which his father sat. He felt torn inside: he simultaneously was looking forward to returning to Hogwarts tomorrow, and he wanted to stay here with his dad forever. He also was a little nervous about what he was about to propose.

"I have to go back to school tomorrow," he said.

"Yes, you do," Severus said from behind the paper.

"You'll take good care of Skittles, right?" They'd decided that the kitten would stay here, as Hedwig would be much more useful to Harry at school. Harry would miss her a lot.

"Of course I will."

"You'll play with her, right? Not just feed her? 'Cause she'll need someone to play with her."

"She's a kitten. She needs little encouragement to play. But, yes, I will make sure that she has human interaction. Would you like me to show her your picture every day so she does not forget you?"

"Very funny, Dad."

It was silent for a few minutes before Harry worked up the courage to broach the topic he most wanted to discuss. "Do you think that you'll be seeing . . . Miss Pilkington . . . when I'm gone?"

This finally got Snape to lower the corner of the paper so that he could see his son, whom he studied for a moment before answering. "I believe I told you it was my intention to do so. Does that bother you?"

Harry wasn't sure if it did or not, so he ignored the question and countered with, "What are you doing today?"

"I thought we'd spend the day together, as it is your last day at home. Is there anything special you would like to do?"

Harry shrugged. "Could we go to the aquarium?"

Severus snapped the paper back up. "If you like. Would you like to invite Hermione, or would you rather it be just the two of us?"

Harry stuck his finger into his juice, then sucked on it. "Actually, I was wondering if you thought Miss Pilkington might like to go with us. If she's not busy."

The paper came down again, and the black eyes studied the boy once again. Severus knew for a fact that Constance was _not_ doing anything today. "Can I ask why you want to invite her?" If Harry intended to use this as an opportunity to scare Constance away, he would not assist him.

Harry looked down at the table. "I want to apologize to her."

Severus smiled. "That's very mature of you, Jamie. I think she'd like that a lot. Shall I call her now?" He folded up the paper and beamed approvingly at his son.

##########

Constance had been thrilled by Severus' phone call, and she'd met them at the front entrance of the aquarium. She smiled at them both when she said hello. Severus wanted to give her a kiss on the cheek, but he looked at Harry and decided not to push his luck.

While Severus and Constance leisurely strolled about, holding hands, Harry raced excitedly from tank to tank. He loved this place. He and Dad had been here multiple times, and Harry made sure to hit all of his favorites: the sharks, the sea horses, and the penguins.

When they'd had their fill of sea life, Harry wanted to visit the gift shop. Severus smiled indulgently at Harry's insistence that he be allowed to go in alone and handed over what he thought was an adequate amount of money for an eleven-year old to spend in an overpriced gift shop. Ten minutes later, Harry came racing back out, empty-handed, pleading for more.

"How much more?" Severus asked sternly.

"Twenty more?" Harry asked, turning his baby blues up full volume on his dad.

Severus sighed, knowing he was being played, but he handed over the requested funds. Harry smiled brightly, yelled "Thanks!" and raced back into the store. Five minutes later, he was back, bag in hand and the grin still on his face.

"Can I see what you got?" Severus asked.

"Later. Can we have lunch now?"

They ate a late lunch at the aquarium's café. When they were finished, Severus gathered up their garbage and took it to a nearby rubbish bin. As soon as he left, Harry seized his opportunity. He dug around in the bag from the shop, and underneath his stuffed penguin and his set of plastic sea horses in a tube, he found the item he was looking for and removed it from the paper it had been wrapped in and hid it in his lap. He sat up again and cleared his throat.

"Miss Pilkington – " he began nervously.

"Jamie, please call me Connie."

"All right. Connie – I wanted to apologize for what I said and the way I acted on Christmas."

"Jamie, that's really not necessary."

"Yes, it is," Harry disagreed. "I was awful to you. I was surprised by you being there. Dad and I talked about why that was. He said he likes you a lot."

Connie smiled. "I like him a lot, too."

"He's kind of helpless by himself," Harry observed, and Connie hid a smile. "And I worry about him when I'm away. It would be nice to know that someone is looking in on him when I can't be there."

Connie schooled her face in an attempt to not show just how adorable she found this boy and his concern for his father. "I would be willing to do that for you."

"Dad said you would be seeing each other after I was gone. And I don't want you to feel like you have to sneak around behind my back. So I just wanted you to know that it's okay with me if you want to see each other."

"Well, thank you, Jamie. That's a very great relief."

Harry's face turned red and he looked down at the table where his hands were fiddling with the paper from his straw. "I also wanted to apologize for what happened that morning. I – "

Connie interrupted him by placing a hand on his fidgeting hands. "Jamie, that's _really_ not necessary."

He could tell that she didn't want to discuss that particular part of the day. Harry certainly didn't either. "Good!" he said with relief. He reached down below the table, then thrust his hand toward Connie. "I want you to have this. Happy Christmas. Sorry it's late."

"This" was a pink crystal heart, the size of his palm, with a seahorse etched into it that Harry (well, technically Severus) had purchased for the woman that had apparently captured his father's heart. He'd thought it was very pretty, and it seemed like something a girl would like.

Connie took the offering into her hand and looked at it, unable to speak for a moment. When she looked up at him, she had tears in her eyes, which alarmed him just a little. "Thank you, Jamie. It's beautiful. I love it."

"Are you crying?" he asked, worried.

"These are good tears. This is very sweet. Thank you." She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and smiled warmly at him.

Harry smiled back. "Are we good?"

"We are better than good. Can I just say one thing?" she asked.

"Sure."

"Your father loves you very much, Jamie. He talks about you all the time, and I can tell he's incredibly proud of you. I have absolutely no intention of trying to come between the two of you. I don't believe I could, even if I wanted to, but I want you to understand that I don't want to. If you allow it, I would like to get to know you, and I would like to some day be a part of your life, _both_ your lives."

Harry considered this very solemnly. Behind him, Constance could see Severus approaching, and she raised her eyes at him, hoping he'd understand that he should give them another couple of minutes. Severus understood, and he stopped.

"I just have one question," Harry finally said.

"Yes?"

"Do you like dogs?"

Connie smiled and nodded. "I _love _dogs. And cats."

##########

That night, when Harry was going off to bed, his father drew him into a tight hug. "I am so very proud of you, Jamie."

"For taking a shower?" Harry teased.

"No, you great nitwit. For apologizing to Constance. She was most impressed with you."

"Well, that was Hermione's idea, just so you know. But it was the right thing to do. I think I like her, Dad. I had a good time today. But I know you have good taste in people, right?"

"Oh?"

"You've got me for a son, haven't you?"

Severus swallowed a lump of emotion that arose in his throat. "Yes, I certainly do."

To be continued . . .


	3. Chapter 3

PATCHWORK, Part 3

by Warviben

**Summary: **Harry Potter is being mistreated by the Dursleys. Everyone wrings their hands and bemoans the situation, but only one man has the fortitude to do something about it.

**Warnings:** I don't believe there's anything left to warn you about.

**Note: **And I just now realized that I did not include a disclaimer with Parts 1 and/or 2, so here it is: I own none of this.

_##########_

Five months later . . .

Severus sat beside his son, pale and still in the hospital bed, the letter he'd received from Minerva fresh in his mind, as though he was seeing it for the first time.

_Rafe:_

_I wish that this were a social missive, but it is not. Before I provide details, let me first tell you that Jamie is fine. Before you jump up and floo here, please read the remainder of this letter. You will lose nothing by taking the few minutes required for me to explain what has happened._

_Your son and Miss Granger were caught out of bed at 1:00 in the morning recently and received a detention and a significant loss of house points. The reason that they were out is not important. I can hear you saying, "But why am I only hearing about this now?", and my only explanation is that your son has the most extraordinarily persuasive blue eyes. I did, however, extract from him a promise that he would tell you about his exploits when he arrives home for summer break. _

_Detention was to be served with Hagrid. Had I known he intended to take them into the forest, I would not have agreed with the Headmaster's request that students in detention be sent to the groundskeeper. But take them into the forest he did, in the middle of the night no less, to search for a wounded unicorn. I know – I don't understand what Albus was thinking either, endangering students in this way. While that is concerning, what happened in the forest is even more so. You-Know-Who was there, Rafe, in some sort of half-human form, feeding off the blood of the dead unicorn. Jamie encountered him while he and Mr. Malfoy had gotten separated from Hagrid. Thankfully, a centaur named Firenze came to Jamie's aid and spirited him away to safety. _

_I wanted to contact you at this point, Rafe, and let you know what was going on, but Dumbledore absolutely forbid anyone from revealing any news of this potential return of the Dark Lord. Since Jamie was safe, I allowed myself to be persuaded to his way of thinking, and I owe you an apology for that. Had I contacted you then, subsequent events might have transpired differently. I did resolve to keep a closer eye on your son and his friends, as they have a way of putting themselves in the middle of dangerous situations._

_Exams proceeded, and all was quiet, so I was persuaded that the danger really had passed. And then the "terrible trio" came to me with concerns about the Sorcerer's Stone. Yes, Rafe, that's what the Headmaster's been hiding here at Hogwarts. He swore us to secrecy on that as well, but considering recent events, I have no qualms about breaking that vow. Jamie seemed to think that someone was out to steal the Stone, and he was demanding urgently to speak with the Headmaster. Unfortunately, Albus had been just been called away to the Ministry. I don't know how they found out about the Stone's presence here, but I tried to reassure the three of them that the Stone was perfectly safe and was adequately protected. I thought I had succeeded, but a short time later, I found Jamie and Mr. Weasley hovering around outside the entrance to the third floor corridor. I let them both have it and threatened them with dire consequences if they didn't leave well enough alone. I thought that was sufficient. You know your son – it wasn't._

_The fool boy got it into his head that he had to protect the Stone himself, and he and his equally foolish friends went after it. I can't help but be a small amount of impressed, underneath all the anger and disappointment, that they managed to get by spells and enchantments created by much older, wiser, and experienced wizards than they, but they somehow did. Harry was the only one to make it all the way to the Stone – the Weasley boy was injured (though he is fine now) and Miss Granger stayed behind with him. _

_You-Know-Who was there, Rafe. Actually, he's been here all year, possessing Professor Quirrell, just biding his time while building up his strength. And Jamie confronted him and somehow ended up with the Stone. Quirrell is dead, snuffed to ash. I'm not sure I understand how that happened. And You-Know-Who is gone again, somehow vanquished by an eleven-year old boy._

_Jamie is in the hospital wing, Rafe, unconscious. Madam Pomfrey says he is going to be fine, but the effort involved in his confrontation has left his magic severely depleted. I know you will want to come, Rafe, to be near Jamie at this time, and if you feel that it is wise, I will do all I can to assist you in keeping away from the Headmaster. If you can bear to, you should probably stay away. Jamie is in no danger, and he will be returning to you shortly, whole and with all magic restored. _

_I apologize, Rafe, for all I have kept from you. I did so in the mistaken belief that Albus would never knowingly put the lives of students at risk, but in looking back over the chain of events set in motion last summer, I have come to conclude that he has plots within plots and that he will stop at nothing to meet an objective. I know my apology is a poor penance, but it is all I have to offer now._

_I suspect I will be seeing you soon._

_Regrets,_

_Minerva_

Severus had clutched the letter tightly in his hand after he'd finished reading it and apparated directly before the Hogwarts gates. He'd practically run to the hospital wing and had interrogated the mediwitch regarding his son's condition. When he was satisfied that Harry would indeed recover, he sent his patronus to Minerva announcing his arrival. Not surprisingly, she arrived in the hospital wing a short time later, and they talked for over an hour beside the bed of his comatose son, Severus holding onto Harry's hand the entire time.

Severus had been here since. Minerva had assisted him by warning him when the headmaster was making a visit so that he could make himself scarce. He was sitting by his son's bed when Jamie finally awoke.

"Dad? What are you doing here?" Harry asked, clearly confused about where he was and what he was doing here.

Severus lay aside the journal he'd been reading and sat on the edge of the hospital bed. "Waiting for you to wake up, silly boy," he said with a profoundly relieved smile.

"Dad! The Stone! Quirrell! It wasn't Snape!" Severus flinched at the sound of his name coming from his son's mouth, but he merely said, "Don't worry, Jamie. The Stone is safe. The Headmaster has it. All is well."

Harry collapsed back onto the bed in relief. "What happened down there?"

"I don't know the whole story. The Headmaster has been by repeatedly. I'm sure once he learns you're awake, he'll come and see you and you can ask all the questions you want." _Good luck getting answers, though_.

"Dad! The quidditch match! I have to get up!"

"Jamie," Severus said gently. "You've been here for three days. The quidditch match has been concluded."

Harry gasped his surprise. "What happened?"

"I'm afraid that without you, Gryffindor stood no chance. They were soundly defeated by Ravenclaw."

"Oh, man! There goes the house cup!" Harry groaned.

"You nearly died, and you're worried about the house cup?!" Severus exclaimed.

"Don't exaggerate, Dad," Harry admonished. "I'm fine."

Severus _wasn't _exaggerating. Harry very nearly _had _died, but Severus knew that dwelling on that would do neither of them any good. Harry was fine _now_. Severus pulled Harry into a relieved hug. "You and I are going to have a serious talk this summer about your tendency to stick your curious nose into things that do NOT concern you. Do you hear me, young man?"

Harry allowed himself to be held for a moment, then pushed his father away. "Yeah, I hear you."

"And don't think I don't know about your detention. We'll be having a long discussion about what exactly you've been getting up to around here."

Harry sighed. Summer was just going to suck for a while, wasn't it?

"Now tell me how your exams went."

Severus suspected that the Headmaster would be here once he heard that Jamie was awake, and he intended to be long gone. Now that Jamie was out of danger, he felt safe leaving him for the limited time that was left before the feast. He was going to think long and hard over the summer about letting Harry come back here for his second year. The Headmaster's machinations frightened him to no end, and the very real danger that the Dark Lord was closer to returning than ever before frightened him even more. He'd thought Harry would be safe here, but the Headmaster had proven that he wasn't above putting innocent children in the line of fire if they were a means to an end. Albus Dumbledore would not use his son that way again.

Still, Harry had managed to get through his first year at Hogwarts with his false identity intact, so that was something. Severus sighed and refocused his attention on his son's justifications for the grade he was sure he'd be receiving on his History of Magic exam.

##########

Harry's summer didn't start out quite as brilliantly as he'd anticipated. He thought he'd shown great restraint in not asking his father when they were going to get his dog until after they'd made it back to the house and had supper. The answer he received when he finally did ask was not one he wanted to hear.

"We have something else to discuss before we talk about that," was Severus' response.

"Oh?" Harry asked, trying to portray innocence. He, of course, knew that he was supposed to confess to his father the fact that he'd received detention in the final weeks of school. He'd promised Aunt Minerva that he would do so. But he didn't know that his father had no intention of waiting until Harry brought that up on his own.

"Yes," Severus said, staring down his nose at the boy. "You have something to tell me, I think."

Harry sighed. He should have known that Aunt Minerva would go running to Dad. "So you know about the detention."

"I would like to hear it from you."

"Hermione and I got caught out of the tower after hours. Aunt Minerva gave us detention. That's pretty much it."

"I hardly think that that is _it_," Severus contradicted. "Why were you out of the tower after curfew?"

Harry did not want to tell his father about the dragon and risk getting Hagrid into trouble. "We were just trying to help a friend, and things didn't go as smoothly as we would have liked."

Severus stared down at Harry, unrelenting. Harry tried to stare back, but gave up after about three seconds and looked down at the floor. He wanted to portray nonchalance, so he swung his feet and looked about the room with an innocent expression.

Severus wasn't fooled for a moment. "How long we sit here is directly determined by how forthcoming you are with me."

"Huh?"

"We can sit here all night for all I'm concerned. But you will tell me."

Harry's shoulders slumped under the weight of the certainty that his father was right – he would end up confessing all. He might as well just get it over with. "We were helping Hagrid. He had a . . . problem that needed disposing of. So we were helping him."

"And this problem was?"

"He had a dragon, all right. A baby dragon. He'd gotten it as an egg. He wanted to keep it after it hatched, but it was getting too big and too dangerous." Not that Hagrid had shared that opinion. "Ron's brother works with dragons in Romania, so we contacted him, and he had some friends stop at Hogwarts to pick it up. They had taken it away, and we were heading back to the tower when Aunt Minerva caught us."

"Is there any particular reason why Hagrid made the dragon _your _problem?"

"He didn't, really. We kind of took it upon ourselves. See, Hagrid's this great big giant bloke, and he's kind of soft in the head when it comes to magical creatures, and he just didn't realize how dangerous Norbert was getting."

"_Norbert?_" Severus questioned.

"I know, right?" Harry agreed with a reassuring smile. _See_? he thought. _We can all be reasonable about this._ "He wanted to keep it and try to raise it, but how could he expect to hide a full-grown dragon, that's what I'd like to know. It's illegal to own a dragon," Harry pointed out helpfully.

"You don't say," Severus said drily.

"Yeah. So we convinced him it would be better for Norbert to go and live with his own kind. So Hermione and I dragged him up to the Astronomy Tower, and Charlie's friends took him away. It was when we were coming back down that Filch caught us and brought us to McGonagall."

Severus raised a disapproving eyebrow at the disrespect.

"I mean, Aunt Minerva," Harry hastened to add.

"And did you tell your Head of House why you were out of bed in the middle of the night?" Severus questioned.

"No. It was bad enough that we were in trouble. We didn't want Hagrid to be in trouble, too. The whole point of the thing was to keep Hagrid from getting into trouble."

"Hagrid is an adult and should have been left to deal with his own trouble, trouble of his own making, I might add. And _you _should have sorted into Hufflepuff."

"I'm sorry," Harry said sincerely.

"Yes, but are your sorry for the act itself or for the fact that you got caught?"

"Both, I guess," Harry said with obvious honesty.

"All right. Now I'd like to hear about what happened in the forest."

Harry shuddered at the memory of what had transpired during their detention. "Hagrid took us into the forest. There was something killing unicorns."

"A moment," Severus said, interrupting. "The man who was responsible for your being in the situation in the first place was given the responsibility for seeing to your punishment? Am I the only one who sees the irony in that?"

"Well, probably, since no one knew _why_ we were out," Harry pointed out with a "duh" tone to his voice.

"Of course. I suppose it would serve no useful purpose to point out that taking students into the forest is dangerous at the best of times. With something afoot that's capable of killing unicorns, the wisdom of sending untrained students into that situation escapes me."

"Right," Harry said, not entirely understanding the point his father was trying to make, but somehow sensing he wasn't being blamed for that particular transgression. "So anyway," he continued. "We split up . . ."

"He _split you up_?" Severus asked in disbelief.

"I'm never going to get to the end of this if you keep interrupting," Harry pointed out.

"My apologies," Severus said with an amused nod in his son's direction. "Please, continue."

"So he split us up. Neville and Hermione went with Hagrid, and me and Draco took Fang and . . ."

"_Draco _was with you?" At a glare from his son, Severus said, "Sorry."

"We found the dead unicorn," Harry said, going quiet and respectful at the memory of finding the poor beautiful creature lying there lifeless. "And there was . . . something came out of the trees and sort of crawled over to the unicorn and . . ." Harry gulped. "It drank it's blood!" Harry looked up at Severus, reassuring himself with his father's solid presence.

Severus looked down at his boy, not quite twelve years old and with so much on his unsuspecting shoulders. He wanted Harry to remain a boy, innocent and trusting, as long as possible. But how to warn his son about the danger that was out there waiting for him, without telling him too much and making him afraid of everything and everyone around him? He put a reassuring arm around Harry and pulled him into a side hug.

Bolstered, Harry went on, still in the shelter of his father's embrace. "Draco freaked out. He screamed like a girl and ran off. Then that . . . thing noticed I was there, and it started toward me." Severus could feel the slight form beneath his arm trembling with remembered fright. "But then a centaur came and saved me, and whatever that thing was ran away. The centaur took me back to Hagrid, and that was that."

"And did anyone tell you what the creature in the forest was?"

"The centaur said it was Voldemort."

Severus flinched, and because they were so close, he could not hide the movement from his son. "Does the name bother you, too? Everyone at school seems so afraid of it. Except the Headmaster. He said, 'Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself'."

"You sound as though you admire the Headmaster," Severus said carefully, pulling away from Harry so he could watch the boy's face.

Harry shrugged. "We talked, after . . ." Harry stopped here, not really wanting to get into the whole Sorcerer's Stone thing. "He's all right." Harry looked up at his father. "Don't you like him? Have you ever met him? Of course you have. You went to Hogwarts, and he's been there forever, right?"

Severus ignored all of that. "It's not a question of whether I like the Headmaster or not. It's a matter of his questionable judgment. Some of the decisions he has made make me wonder if he has the best interests of his students foremost in his mind. Take the Sorcerer's Stone, for instance."

Harry looked sheepish. "You know about that, huh?"

"Of course I know about that, Jamie! I was there when you awoke from an unconscious state due to the severe strain on your magic, remember? Whatever possessed you? You could have been killed! You very nearly were!"

"We thought that Voldemort wanted the Stone!" Harry defended himself. "We knew he was in the forest. We knew that if he got his hands on the Stone, he'd be able to come back. We thought that Snape was trying to steal it for him, but it turned out to be Quirrell."

"Aunt Minerva has told me all she knows about that whole episode, so we won't belabor those details too much. There is something that you need to understand, Jamie," he said, turning to his son, everything about him serious. "There are forces at work in our world that will harm you if you stray too far outside the bounds of safety that surround you. I need you to promise me that you will not put yourself in the middle of these dangerous situations any longer. The troll last Halloween, midnight wanderings, the forest, the stone. You will do better if you stay away from things that do not concern you. Please. I could not bear to lose you."

His dad looked so pathetic and sad that Harry couldn't help it – he launched himself into the man's arms and hugged him tightly, allowing himself to be held in return. "I'm sorry, Dad," he said into the man's shirt. "I'll try to be more careful."

"Please do. Not just for yourself – you've dragged your friends right along with you. How would you feel if Hermione or Mr. Weasley had been injured in one of your escapades?"

"Really awful," Harry admitted truthfully.

"Exactly. So let's not let it get to that."

"All right, Dad," Harry agreed.

Severus held onto the boy for a moment longer, then pushed him away. "There is now the matter of your punishment."

"Punishment?" Harry echoed, a faint touch of alarm in his voice. "Why punishment? I was punished already for being caught out after curfew. Dumbledore didn't see fit to punish me for going after the Stone, so why should you?"

"I am your father," Severus said simply. "It is my prerogative to punish you further when you misbehave at school."

Harry slumped in his seat. Was he going to be grounded, just as the summer was about to begin?

"I would like to impress upon you the seriousness of the potential consequences of any one of your _adventures_ going awry. I know how badly you have wanted a dog – "

"No!" Harry exploded, dismayed, sure he knew where his father was going with this. "You can't! Dad, please! You _said_ – "

Severus held up a hand to still the protest. Surprisingly enough, Harry obeyed its edict. "I have no intention of going back on my promise to get you a dog this summer," he explained. "I had intended to take you to look at some prospects tomorrow. A co-worker has an English springer spaniel which has recently had a litter of eight puppies. He has shown me photographs, and I think you will find them quite adorable." Hell, _Severus_ had found them adorable – Harry's soft little heart would melt right into his feet.

Harry's own eyes were looking pathetically puppy-like now as he hung between the image of the puppy he'd wanted for so long and the denial of that wish. Deep down inside himself, Severus was quite sure that he wouldn't be able to deny this to Harry no matter what the boy had done. It wouldn't do to let the boy know that, though, would it?

"So instead of going to look at the puppies tomorrow, we are going to wait two weeks."

"Two weeks!" Harry repeated, slumping nearly boneless onto the sofa in his disappointment. He'd been less than twenty-four hours from having his very own dog, and now he had to wait TWO WHOLE WEEKS?!

"Two weeks," Severus repeated firmly. "For every protest you make about this, I will extend your punishment another week." Severus stopped, to give the boy an opportunity to further vent his displeasure, but Harry wanted this badly enough that he bit his tongue. Severus nodded in approval of his self-control. "Good. In two weeks, we will go and see the puppies. If you find one acceptable, we will bring it home. You must understand that David sells these puppies, and I will not ask him to hold one for us. If he has other buyers in the meantime, they may not be available for you."

"I wanted to look at a bunch of dogs before deciding anyway," Harry said, but Severus could tell it was the boy's bravado speaking, as Harry's large blue eyes pleaded with Severus to say it wasn't so. Severus sought to reassure the boy. "We will find a puppy for you, Jamie. I _will _keep my promise. Now, we've both had a long day, I think. Why don't you go get ready for bed."

Miserable and close to tears at what he had lost, Harry nodded, got up and traipsed off to his room.

##########

The two weeks that Harry had to wait for his puppy were nearly intolerable. He thought about the puppy every waking hour, worrying that his father's friend would sell the last pup. He hadn't complained, though, sure that his father would make him wait even longer if he did. So he waited, and he worried, and he annoyed Hermione with his worrying, and he had a hard time eating and he wasn't sleeping. He spent a lot of time with Skittles, reassuring her that he would still love her even after he _finally_ got his puppy.

But, oh, the wait was _so_ worth it. The moment Harry spotted the puppy, the _only one left_ in the litter, he knew it was what he'd been waiting for all his life. He'd wanted a boy puppy, but the one remaining dog was a girl. When Harry looked into the puppy's eyes, and she looked back at him, he was lost. She was so cute, her large brown eyes drawing Harry in and refusing to let go.

"What do you think, Jamie?" Severus asked.

"She's perfect," Jamie breathed. He approached the liver and white puppy and held his hand out for her to sniff. Wriggling all over, the puppy sniffed Harry's finger, then licked them, making Harry giggle. Harry dropped to sit on the floor, and the puppy climbed into his lap, reaching up to lick the boy's face.

Severus smiled when Harry laughed aloud, his joy spilling out.

"She likes you already," Constance observed, leaning on Severus' arm. Harry hadn't minded at all when his father had suggested that they invite Constance along. Nothing could ruin this day.

"Well, Jamie. We should be going. You did say you wanted to look at 'a bunch' of other dogs before making up your mind."

As Severus had known he would, Harry looked up at his father in protest. "I want _her_," he said emphatically.

"Are you quite sure? There are several more places we can go," Severus teased.

"No, Dad. _Her_."

Severus smiled. "All right, Jamie. She's all yours." Because despite what Severus had told Harry two weeks ago, he'd reserved and paid for this puppy as soon as his co-worker had told him his bitch was expecting.

"Yay!" Harry shouted, rolling onto the floor and wrestling with his new puppy.

Severus couldn't help the smile that seemed stuck on his face at his son's happiness. From the pocket of his trousers, he removed a collar and a leash. "Shall we take her home, Jamie?"

##########

Harry spent the remainder of the summer getting to know the newest member of his family. He didn't settle on a name for her until several days had gone by and he discovered how curious she was. After that realization, Curious Georgia seemed perfect. Georgia and Skittles were a long time getting accustomed to each other. Georgia was more than willing to be the best of friends with the nearly-grown kitten, but Skittles was a little put off by the rambunctious playfulness of the energetic pup and made herself scarce when Georgia was at her most bouncy. When the pup was asleep, which was frequently, Skittles would creep out of hiding and approach the puppy slowly, ready to leap away at the slightest movement, and when she managed to get close enough would touch her nose gingerly to the puppy's fur. When Georgia was awake, it wasn't uncommon for the two of them to come face to face, Skittles hissing, her back arching, Georgia trembling with fear and enthusiasm at the same time. After Skittles struck her on the nose once, Georgia developed a healthy respect for the kitten's claws and kept her distance.

Harry was scheduled to spend the last few days of the summer with Ron at the Burrow. The morning he left, he was ecstatic to discover that both Skittles and Georgia had slept on the bed with him. He was _this close_ to canceling his plans to go to Ron's, so thrilled was he with his pets, but Severus talked him into going. He took several photographs of both animals with him, knowing he would miss them tremendously. Leaving his father was harder, though. Severus accompanied Harry through the floo to the Burrow, and Harry had all he could to maintain his twelve-year old dignity when the man left.

##########

Severus had been readjusting himself to an empty house. Well, it wasn't exactly empty now, was it, not with a growing puppy constantly in motion and a cat seemingly hell-bent on never letting said puppy sleep. Skittles had taken to pouncing on Georgia the moment the puppy had curled up to sleep, until Severus had felt sorry for the pup and shut Skittles in Harry's bedroom. Now Georgia was peacefully asleep at Severus' feet as Severus sat finishing a second cup of coffee and reading the paper in the quiet house.

He gave a thought to calling Constance and inviting her over for lunch. He looked forward to spending more time with her now that Harry had gone back to school. He thought the relationship between his son and the woman he loved was progressing nicely. Once Harry had accepted someone else in his father's life, he'd made an honest effort to get to know Constance, and he thought the boy really liked her. Perhaps when Harry came home for Christmas, he'd broach the topic of Constance moving in. It would then be a year since their last ill-fated attempt.

Severus' musings were interrupted by the flaring of the floo.

"Mr. Carnaby? Are you there?" he heard the voice of Molly Weasley speak to him. She sounded slightly frazzled, and Severus wondered if the boys had acted up on the platform. He rechecked the time: the Express should have left for Hogwarts thirty minutes ago.

"Yes, I'm here. Would you like to come through?"

His answer was a large whoosh of flames and Molly Weasley stepping into his sitting room. He could tell instantly from the look on her face that something was seriously wrong, and Severus jumped to his feet, followed immediately by a furiously-wagging Georgia.

"They're gone," she said. "The boys are gone."

Severus felt as though he'd been punched in the solar plexus. "What do you mean? How could they be gone?"

Molly looked as though she was about to collapse, and Severus escorted her to a chair and forced her to sit.

"We were outside the platform. We all crossed over. Ron and Jamie were the last to come through. But they never came through! We waited, and when it became clear they weren't coming through, Arthur went back out to find them while I waited with the other children. He searched from one end of the station to the other and couldn't find them. The train was leaving, so I put the others on and went out to find Arthur. He was just coming back from the car – or where we had last left the car. It was gone. Arthur thinks they took it."

Severus was stunned. "Two twelve-year old boys are driving a car?!"

Molly looked even more sick. "Not driving, no. The car is enchanted to fly. Ron's never flown it, but his brothers have. Oh, Mr. Carnaby, I am so sorry! I don't know what came over them, to take the car like they did! I cannot imagine why they didn't just follow us onto the platform."

Severus bit his tongue on the accusations of neglect he wanted to spit at her. Placing blame wouldn't help Harry now. "Does anyone have any idea where they are?"

"No," Molly said, wiping at her nose with a handkerchief she'd pulled from her purse. "We assume they are heading toward Hogwarts. Arthur apparated there to speak with the Headmaster."

"We should head there as well. Perhaps he will have an idea how to find them," Severus suggested. He strode to the floor and threw some powder in. "Minerva!" he barked.

"Oh, Rafe!" she responded instantly. "I was just going to call you. You've heard?"

"Yes, Molly Weasley is here with me. Can we come through?"

"Of course."

Severus motioned for Mrs. Weasley to proceed him through the floo, then followed her into Minerva's private quarters.

"Has there been any word?" Severus asked.

"There have been reports from all over Britain of Muggles seeing a flying car. It seems clear they are on their way here. Albus is sending out Order members on brooms to intercept their path, although it is likely to be dark before they arrive here. They will not attempt to intervene, assuming that any such attempt would be dangerous to both the boys and the Order member. Hopefully they will be able to land the car safely, and then their behavior will be dealt with. Most severely," Minerva added, her mouth set in a thin, angry line.

Severus did not like waiting, not when the health and safety of his son were so up in the air (literally). But he could see no other course of action that made any more sense. With any luck, Albus' escort would find the miscreants soon and accompany them back here. But Severus could not remain here for the several hours it would take for them to arrive.

"Minerva, I will wait at home. You will contact me directly with any word?"

"Of course," Minerva assured him. "Come, Molly, I'll take you up to the Headmaster's office. That's where Arthur is waiting."

"Mr. Carnaby – Rafe," Molly said, turning to Severus. "Please accept my apologies. You left your son in my care, and I didn't – "

"Please, Molly," Severus said, hoping the use of her first name would set her at ease. "You did nothing wrong. Let's just hope for the boys' safe return. We can then ascertain exactly what happened."

Molly smiled weakly and allowed herself to be escorted out by Minerva. Snape returned to his own sitting room and promptly called Constance for moral support.

##########

"Rafe, the boys are in my office," Minerva reported to him several nervous hours later.

"Would you like me to come with you?" Constance asked. Severus had floo called her the moment he'd arrived back home, needing the comfort of her presence while he awaited word of the fate of his boneheaded son.

Severus kissed her, then said, "No. I think I'd better go and do this myself."

"Don't be too hard on him, Rafe. He's just a boy."

"He's a boy with incredibly faulty judgment," Severus growled. "Will you be here when I get back?"

"Yes. I'll want to hear that he's okay."

"Constance, I have no intention of injuring the boy."

"That's not what I meant," she said soothingly. "Go. And then come back."

Without further word, Severus stepped into the floo.

He arrived in Minerva's office to find Harry and Ron sitting before her desk, their eyes glued to the floor, Harry's hands twisting nervously in his lap.

"Jameson Michael Carnaby," Severus said.

Clearly reluctantly, Harry looked up at his father.

"Come here."

Harry stood up, his shoulders slumped, gave a little sigh, and went to stand before his father. Severus stared down at him for a moment before dropping to his knees and pulling the boy into his arms in a tight hug. Surprised, Harry just stood there for a moment before letting his arms go around his father. He lowered his cheek to his dad's solid shoulder and felt tears squeeze out of his closed eyes.

After a long moment, Severus pulled away. "Are you all right?" He pushed Harry's fringe aside and studied a large lump on the boy's forehead.

Harry sniffed. "Yes, I'm alright. I hit my head. It's okay."

"And you, Mr. Weasley?" he asked, looking over at Ron.

"I'm okay," Ron said, his voice low and worried. His mother was on her way.

"Sit," Severus instructed.

Harry returned to his chair. "Can I go check on Hedwig? She was thrown out of the car, and she flew away, but I want to make sure that she wasn't hurt."

"We will check on your owl later," Severus assured him. He inhaled a large, calming breath. "Whatever possessed you?"

"The gateway between platforms nine and ten wouldn't open!" said Harry at the same time Ron said, "We had to get to school!"

Severus held a hand up for silence, and both boys fell to immediately. "What do you mean, the barrier wouldn't open?"

"After Ron's Mum went through, Ron and I tried to go through together, but the wall was solid. We were stuck in the station. We waited a couple minutes to see if they'd come back for us, but then we worried that they couldn't, that the gateway was closed from both sides. We didn't know what to do."

"And you thought taking a flying car was the best solution?" Severus challenged.

"Well," said Ron, "the car was there. I was pretty sure I knew how to fly it."

"You were pretty sure . . ." Severus repeated.

"I believe you are in possession of an owl, Mr. Carnaby?" Minerva spoke for the first time.

"Oh," Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I could have sent Hedwig here with a letter. Or home, to Dad."

"Or you could have picked up a telephone and called me," Severus stated. "Either of those alternatives would have been light years better than the course you took. Do you even comprehend the danger you put yourselves in? What if you'd gotten lost? What if the car had malfunctioned in mid-air? What if you'd been seen? What am I talking about? You WERE seen! What you have done was not only dangerous, it was incredibly irresponsible!"

"Yes, sir," Harry said miserably. "We've already heard it from Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall."

"What's Snape got to do with it?" Severus asked, his curiosity aroused despite the irrelevance of his involvement.

"He caught us when we were sneaking back into Hogwarts," Harry explained. "He wanted to expel us."

Severus found himself for the first time agreeing with this "other" Severus Snape. "You will be lucky if the Headmaster doesn't _take_ that course of action. If he does not, it is entirely possible that _I_ will bring you home so fast your head will spin!"

"Dad! You can't!" Harry protested.

"Do not tell me what I can and cannot do, young man. I am seriously displeased with you and inclined to keep you close so that I can monitor and curtail this tendency you have for putting yourself into danger. We have discussed this before, but it seems the message has not sunk in. What will it take, Jamie? Tell me."

Harry hung his head, unable to come up with an answer that would adequately placate his irate father.

An anxious knocking on the door interrupted them. "Enter," Minerva bade.

Molly Weasley entered the room, and Ron immediately went rigid. "Ronald Bilius Weasley!" she bellowed. "Come with me now!"

Knowing that resistence was futile, Ron got to his feet and went to stand beside his mother, flinching when she raised a hand, sure that she was going to strike him. She only put a hand on his shoulder though, squeezing to reassure herself that he was safe and sound. Before they left, she turned to Severus.

"Please, Mr. Carnaby, accept my apologies once again. Be assured that we will punish Ronald most severely."

Ron looked even more defeated now.

"Your apologies are unwarranted, Molly," Severus assured her. "Both boys used incredibly poor judgment, and you and your husband are in no way to blame."

"Thank you," she said. The hand on her son's shoulder tightened, and she used the grip to escort Ron from the room.

"What is the headmaster's idea of an appropriate punishment?" Severus asked Minerva.

"He has left their punishment up to me. Since the only school rule they have violated is damaging the Whomping Willow, I feel nothing more than a detention is warranted. You, however, are obviously permitted to punish him in whatever way you feel appropriate at home. I _am _concerned that he and Mr. Weasley will be perceived as heroes for their feat. I would prefer that he not return to the Common Room now, as I feel sure the other Gryffindors are waiting there to celebrate this _heroic adventure_," she said, her lip curled in disgust.

"I will bring him home with me," Severus decided. "And I will return him here just in time for him to start his first period class." Severus was tempted to keep Harry home for a week as punishment, but he couldn't interfere with the boy's schooling in that way.

"I haven't a class first thing tomorrow. I will be happy to escort him to Herbology," Minerva said with a stern glance at Harry. "Your class schedule, Mr. Carnaby," she said, handing him the parchment upon which his second year schedule was printed.

"Let's go," Severus ordered.

Just as reluctantly as Ron, Harry accompanied his father to the floo.

"He has not eaten, Rafe," Minerva offered just before they flooed away. "And I will check on Hedwig."

##########

"You will go into your room now," Severus ordered when they arrived back in the sitting room. "I will bring you something for dinner, and then you will go to bed." It wasn't even eight yet, and Harry wasn't tired, but he knew better than to protest. "In the morning, after you have had breakfast, I will return you to school. I do not wish to discuss this matter any further. But know that you will not be allowed to visit with Mr. Weasley during Christmas break this year, nor will he be allowed here."

"All right, Dad. Come on, Georgia," Harry called to his pup, who had begun wagging excitedly when Harry entered the room.

"No," Severus stopped. "She will sleep with me. You will not have any 'creature' comforts while you are here. You do not deserve them."

"Yes, sir. Hello, Connie," Harry said to the woman watching from the sofa. "Good night, Connie."

"Good night, Harry. I'm glad you're home safe."

Harry offered her a weak smile before retiring to his room.

"Should I go home?" she asked after he'd gone.

"No, stay. I'll get him some of the stew we had for dinner, then we'll talk. You'll not believe the thought processes of twelve-year old boys."

_##########_

After an exciting beginning, Harry's year settled into the mundane routine of schoolwork and Quidditch practice, Quidditch practice and schoolwork. Until a month into the school year, when a notice was posted announcing the formation of a dueling club. Harry and his friends excitedly signed up and eagerly awaited the first meeting.

Their enthusiasm was somewhat dimmed when they learned that Lockhart and Snape would be instructing them at dueling, but they laughed along with everyone else when Snape set Lockhart on his arse. After separating the assembled students into pairs and allowing them to practice throwing jinxes at each other, Lockhart and Snape patrolled the pairs, offering effusive praise (Lockhart) and sneering criticism (Snape). When Snape only raised his nose and turned away from Harry's blocking of Hermione's jellylegs jinx, Harry considered that the highest compliment.

_##########_

It quickly became apparent that Harry had some innate ability as a dueler. He was fast on his feet, quick-witted in the heat of battle, and seemed able to anticipate what his opponent was thinking. When Lockhart established a dueling tournament, Harry quickly worked his way up through the second-year competition, defeating everyone put in his path, until only he and Draco Malfoy remained. Their match was scheduled on the Saturday before term ended for the year. A full day of dueling was planned, one match for each year, and parents were invited to attend the festivities. Severus wanted badly to come, but didn't want to risk his true identity being revealed. Before making a final decision, however, he talked for a long while with Minerva, and she convinced him that if he flooed directly into and out of her office and stayed away from Dumbledore, he should be safe.

##########

The day of the competition finally arrived. Lunch had been served in the Great Hall, decked out in its Christmas finest, to the students and their visiting families. The first-year tournament had been won by a girl from Ravenclaw, who had hit her opponent with the required three jinxes in just under thirty minutes. Anticipation was running high amongst the Gryffindors and Slytherins for the upcoming duel between its houses.

Severus had had a brief moment after lunch to give Harry his best wishes for the match. Harry seemed nervous but confident, and Severus was looking forward to his son wiping the floor with the Malfoy heir.

The contestants stood at either end of the raised dais. That pompous idiot Lockhart stood in the middle, his voice amplified by sonorous, and addressed the gathered throng.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen! Thank you for coming to dear old Hogwarts on this fine afternoon for the second of our seven dueling finals. You will join me in welcoming our second-year competitors: from the House of Slytherin, Draco Malfoy!"

Malfoy strutted to the center of the platform and turned his sneer on the crowd. Hoots and cheers from the Slytherin contingent caused him to smirk a little smile.

"And from Gryffindor," Lockhart continued with a huge showy smile, "Jameson Carnaby!"

Harry joined his professor and his year-mate at the center of the dais. When his Gryffindor friends cheered and yelled his name, he beamed a genuine smile at them and waved. His eyes sought out his father, and when he found him, Severus gave him a double thumbs up. Harry nodded in acknowledgment.

"I will remind you, gentleman, that we are using only jinxes and first-class hexes. Nothing permanently injurious or disfiguring, eh, boys?" Lockhart chuckled at his own words. "Face your partners!"

Harry and Malfoy moved until they were facing one another, approximately three meters apart. By this time, they both knew the etiquette, and both bowed low, though not low enough so that they took their eyes off one another.

"Scared, Carnaby?" Draco asked.

"You wish," Harry muttered back.

"Wands at the ready!" Lockhart called.

Both Harry's and Malfoy's arms came up in the classic dueling position. Lockhart took three large steps backward and nearly fell off the dais. At the crowd's laughter, he blushed sheepishly, then flashed his award-winning smile.

"When I count to three," he said, "you may begin. One . . . two . . ."

Harry knew Malfoy well by now, and he knew that the Slytherin would not be able to follow the rules. Sure enough, Lockhart had no sooner got the word "two" out of his mouth when Malfoy was sending his first hex at Harry. Since he'd been prepared for that very eventuality, Harry blocked it easily. Malfoy was now at his mercy.

Harry looked down his wand at his opponent, considering. He'd planned out the sequence of jinxes he wanted to use, knowing Draco's strengths and weaknesses, but now he was rethinking his strategy. Every other duel he'd participated in he'd used mild jinxes to start, gradually increasing the strength until he'd worn his opponent down. But Draco knew that, too, and Harry decided to shake him up a little to start. Using every scrap of power he possessed, he threw an expelliarmus at Malfoy. Not expecting the hex or the power behind it, Malfoy's hastily-thrown up shield was no match, and he was thrown backward onto his arse.

"Point to Carnaby!" Lockhart called.

Harry returned to the ready position as Malfoy climbed to his feet. When he met Harry's gaze this time, Harry could tell the Slytherin was off his game. Knowing Malfoy, he'd compensate for that in a way that would bend the rules to the point of fracturing them.

Sure enough, the next word out of Malfoy's mouth was "Confringo!"

Harry's shield was instant and strong. Had it not been, he likely would have been blasted across the Great Hall and possibly completely out of it. Harry directed the spell power down toward his feet.

"Warning, Mr. Malfoy," Lockhart announced. "One more infraction, and you shall be disqualified from competition."

Malfoy was angry now, and Harry knew he could use that against him. A cheering charm should be just the thing. Anticipating something much stronger, the shield that Draco tried to throw up was cumbersome and slow in forming, and Harry's jinx snuck in just before he got it up completely. A large, happy smile broke out over Malfoy's face, and he beamed at the crowd.

"Marvelous!" Lockhart crooned. "A cheering charm. Oh, good show, Mr. Carnaby!" Lockhart enjoyed the happy Draco a moment before he ended the charm. "Another point to Mr. Carnaby!"

Draco glanced desperately out at the audience. His father was seated there, his arms folded across his chest, looking very disapproving. His son was losing to this . . . nobody? There would be hell to pay if Draco did not pull this out. Malfoys did not lose duels in front of large crowds.

Draco raised his wand at Harry and bellowed, "_Serpensortia!_"

The end of his wand exploded. Harry watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.

Severus saw what was happening and tried to get to his son, but the back-pedaling crowd hindered his forward progress, and he snarled in frustration.

"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Malfoy and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

Despite having conjured the snake, Draco apparently had no idea what to do about it now, and seemed frozen in fear, his eyes wide as he stared at the approaching creature.

Harry took three steps toward the snake before he had any conscious idea what he was doing. He wasn't sure what made him do it. He wasn't even aware of deciding to do it. All he knew was that his legs were carrying him forward as though he was on casters.

"Please," he shouted to the snake. "Don't hurt him. He didn't mean to bring you here." Well, this was a lie, but despite his dislike of the other boy, Harry really didn't want him to be bitten by the deadly viper.

Amazingly, the snake turned to face Harry and began to slither its way across the space dividing them. "You speak to me?" it said as it approached.

"I do," Harry confirmed. "I'm sorry for what happened to you. But please, don't bite anyone. If you do, I'm afraid that they may kill you," he said, gesturing to the witches and wizards all around them that had their wands drawn.

"I will not bite. I have eaten recently and would only bite to protect myself. Can you guarantee my safety?"

"I can," Harry promised. "Where did you come from?"

"I do not know. I was in a forest, and suddenly I was here."

"We can sort this out," Harry assured the snake. He looked up at Lockhart. "It's all right. He won't bite anyone."

Harry only now became aware that complete silence had fallen in the Great Hall and everyone was staring at him as though he was from outer space. He looked over at Draco, expecting the other boy to look angry at being bested or embarrassed not to have been able to deal with the results of his own spell, or maybe even a little grateful. He didn't expect to see the sheer horror in the boy's face as he looked back at Harry. He then noticed identical expressions of the faces of almost everyone around him: Professor Snape, every student he could see, Professor Lockhart, even Aunt Minerva.

It was his Head of House that finally stepped up and waved her wand, causing the snake to disappear in a puff of black smoke.

"Hey!" Harry protested. "I promised him we wouldn't hurt him!"

The crowd began muttering now, a low, ominous noise. "Mr. Carnaby, I think you'd better come with me," Professor McGonagall requested. She put a firm hand on his shoulder and steered him off the dais.

She escorted him out the side door of the hall into an infrequently-used antechamber. They were met there by Severus. They were alone, and Minerva cast a spell to make sure it stayed that way.

"What is wrong with everyone?" Harry asked.

"Jamie, do you realize what you've just done?" his father asked.

"I convinced the snake not to attack Malfoy. Though why I did that, I really don't know. He could at least have looked grateful, the prat. Hey, did I win the duel since he used spells that weren't allowed?"

"Winning the duel is the least of your worries, Jamie," Minerva said gently.

"I don't understand what the big deal is," Harry said, lost.

Severus put his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Jamie, you're a parselmouth. Did you know?"

"I'm a what?"

"A parselmouth," Severus explained. "Someone who can talk to snakes."

"Oh," Harry said, sounding relieved. "I've only done that one other time. There was a little snake in the yard, and I asked it where it was going. It said, 'nowhere in particular' and kept going. I bet loads of people here can do it."

"It is not a very common gift, Jamie," Severus explained.

"Is it bad?" Harry asked, finally getting worried by everyone's reaction. He himself didn't think it was a big deal, but everyone else apparently did. "If I hadn't told it not to attack, I think it would have bitten Malfoy."

"Is that what you said to it?" Minerva asked.

"What do you mean? You were there. Didn't you hear me?" Harry asked, confused.

"I heard you speaking parseltongue, Jamie. Snake language. Sounded like a collection of hisses to me."

Harry gaped at her. "I spoke a different language?" He turned to his father, his eyes wide with fear. "How can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it? Why does all this matter anyway? Why is everyone acting like I've got the plague suddenly?"

Severus and Minerva exchanged a glance. Severus was Harry's father, and it was his burden to share the unpleasant truth with the boy. "Salazar Slytherin was famous for being able to speak with snakes, Jamie. That's why the symbol of Slytherin House is a snake."

The repercussions of that slowly sunk into Harry's skull. "Oh no," he groaned. "The whole school is going to think I'm his great-great-great-great-grandson or something. But I couldn't be!"

"He lived about a thousand years ago, Jamie," Minerva pointed out. "For all we know, you could be."

"But you're not a parseltongue," Harry pointed out somewhat desperately to his father. "If it were hereditary, wouldn't you also be able to speak to snakes?"

Minerva and Severus exchanged another glance because, of course, this was a truth they could not get into.

"I cannot answer that question for you, Jamie. But know this: the ability to speak with snakes is a rare talent. The fact that others fear it does not diminish this amazing power you have. Do not be ashamed of your gifts, son."

Easy for him to say, Harry thought. No one was going to think _he _was the heir of Slytherin.

"I am very proud of you for how you handled yourself today," Severus continued. "You kept your head when your opponent cheated, and you helped a fellow student in danger, even though you may not have thought he deserved it. That was well done."

Harry glowed with pride at his father's words and allowed himself to be hugged.

"I probably should be getting back to the common room," Harry said, though he dreaded the thought of the looks he would receive, the whispers that would follow him wherever he went. He sighed. Why did these weird things keep happening to him?

"All right," Severus agreed, pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead. "I will see you very soon. Keep your head up, son. Everything will be fine."

_#########_

That evening, Harry was summonsed to the Headmaster's office. He was escorted there by Aunt Minerva, and as soon as she spoke the password and left him at the bottom of the spiral staircase, she returned to her office and floo called Severus.

"Ah, Mr. Carnaby, come in, come in," Dumbledore said when Harry appeared in his office doorway. "Please, sit," he said, gesturing at a chair in front of his desk. When Harry sat, rather nervously, on the edge of the chair, the Headmaster sat himself behind his desk and beamed down at the boy. "Well done today, Mr. Carnaby. I was most impressed with your dueling ability."

"Thank you, sir. Is that why you wanted to see me?" Perhaps the Headmaster had invited all seven champions up here to congratulate them.

"No, my boy, I wanted to speak with you about your newly-revealed skill."

Harry's shoulders slumped. "The parseltongue thing, you mean?"

"Exactly," Dumbledore said with a warm smile. "Did you know you had this ability before today?"

"Yes, sir. I talked to a snake once before. I didn't realize it was anything unusual. I thought probably lots of wizards could do it, too."

"But you now realize just how rare a skill it is?"

"Yeah. Professor McGonagall and my dad told me. And the other kids are acting like I'm from Mars or something."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, I expect they would. Speaking of your father . . . I believe I caught a glimpse of him at the duel today?"

"Yes, sir. He was there."

"I regret that we have yet had the opportunity to meet. Is he a parselmouth as well, Jamie? The skill _is_ hereditary."

"No. I must have got it from my mom, or maybe it's one of those things that skips a generation."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore seemed to agree with a sage nod. "Forgive my asking, but have you been without your mother for long?"

"For as long as I can remember," Harry said.

"And what do you know of her?"

"Not much. Dad doesn't like to talk about her. I guess it's painful for him. He has told me that she had a drug problem and that she died when I was about a year old. That's all I really know."

"And what do you know of your father's past?"

"Sir?" Harry asked, confused.

"Did he attend Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"Really? I do not remember him. The face or the name. And he has some familial connection with your Head of House I understand?"

"They're cousins somehow, although I've always called her Aunt Minerva."

"So you've known her a long time, then?"

"As long as I can remember. Why all the questions, Headmaster?"

"Forgive an old man's curiosity, Jamie." He sat for a time studying the boy before him. "I would like to try something. Do you mind?"

Harry was getting more than a little nervous about the Headmaster's weird behavior. He was pretty sure the old man wouldn't hurt him, but his request was more than a little disconcerting. Slowly, uncertainly, he nodded.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said. He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, as though deep in thought. After several moments of this, he opened his eyes, sat forward, and waved his wand at Harry.

With the waving of the wand, Harry's vision suddenly went wonky. "Hey!" Harry exclaimed, rubbing frantically at his eyes. When he opened them again, he could see clearly no further than the end of his nose.

He could see the blurred outline of the Headmaster as he sat still behind his desk. "Sweet Merlin," Dumbledore breathed. "There you are." Harry couldn't see his face, but he thought the Headmaster sounded . . . amazed? "You've been right here all this time."

"What?" Harry asked, suddenly very worried. "What's wrong? Why can't I see?"

Before the Headmaster could answer, the door to Dumbledore's office opened behind them, and someone came hurtling into the room.

Severus stopped, appalled at what he was seeing. Harry Potter . . . _Harry Potter_ was sitting in the chair before Dumbledore's desk. The Headmaster was also sitting, staring at Severus with a sort of gleeful expression.

"What have you done?" Severus asked.

"Ah. We meet at last, Mr. _Carnaby_," Albus said.

"Dad?" Harry asked, turning around to see his father. Well, not _see_ exactly. "Dad, I can't see."

Severus could hear the note of panic in his son's voice. "It's all right, Jamie. We'll get this sorted." Then, to Dumbledore, "I'm going to set him right."

"Of course, of course," the old man agreed.

Severus recast Harry's glamour, and Harry smiled in relief. "Thanks, Dad. That was weird! What are you doing back here?"

Severus looked at the Headmaster, almost daring him to tell the boy anything or everything.

"Your father and I have some things to discuss, Jamie. Why don't you retire back to my study? I'll have the house elves bring you up a small snack."

"Dad?" Harry asked, looking at his father for guidance.

Not taking his eyes off Dumbledore, Severus said, "It's all right, son. Go ahead. We won't be long."

##########

Once Harry had left the room, Dumbledore cast a thorough silencing charm. Severus thought about casting his own as well but didn't. He would regret this later.

"Welcome home, Severus," he said. He was not smiling, and his eyes were not twinkling. "Would you like to remove that rather thorough and very effective glamour?"

"Not while someone with my image runs around this castle. Who is he?"

"No one you know. An acquaintance of mine from years past."

"Tell me he's at least competent at potions."

"He has a better than average knowledge of the subject matter. But I don't believe that potions is the subject we need to discuss now." Dumbledore stared down his nose at Severus. "You are fortunate that I have not yet called the Aurors."

"You will lose him if you do," Severus predicted. He had no idea how Harry would react to finding out who he was and how he'd been deceived all these years, but he thought they were attached enough that Harry would resent the man who sent him to Azkaban.

"I suspect that is true. Where have you been all these years, Severus?"

"We have been living a small life among Muggles, a normal life. Jamie is a normal boy in every way. He has grown up knowing a stable home and a loving father, one who does not hurt him or belittle him or force him to work at chores well beyond his size and years. They would have _killed_ him, Albus, as sure as I am standing here. That you could not see that left me with no option but to take him away."

"Minerva knows?" It sounded like a question, but Severus knew that it was not.

"She also saw the danger and was there when I made the decision to take him away." They were quiet for a moment before Severus asked the question he knew he needed an answer to. "What do you intend to do now?"

"He must be told. I cannot let you keep his heritage from him."

"His _heritage_?" Snape spat. "You want your savior back. I will not let you use him, Albus. He is still just a boy, with no knowledge of any prophecy or that he is the subject of a madman's obsession."

"All the more reason for him to be told. He needs to know so that he can protect himself."

Suddenly Albus Dumbledore was an advocate for revealing all? Severus nearly snorted in disgust. "I cannot sway you from this?"

"You cannot," Dumbledore stated. "It must be done."

"When he is older, perhaps, and more able to understand the situation as a whole," Severus suggested, though he knew that Dumbledore would never agree. Now that the old man had them both back in his clutches, there was no way he'd let the status quo continue.

"No, Severus," Dumbledore said firmly. "You will do it now. Or I will. And if you try to spirit him away again, I will have the Aurors after you so fast you won't even see them coming."

Severus knew that he was beat. "May I take him home to tell him?"

"No. You will do it here. I am sorry, Severus, but I do not trust you. You will stay within the confines of Hogwarts. I will, however, allow Harry one last night of rest. You may return in the morning and tell him then."

There was no way Severus was allowing Dumbledore unfettered access to his son for the next several hours. He had a sneaking suspicion that he would never see Harry again if he allowed that. "No. I will tell him tonight. But I want Minerva brought up here now. He will need someone after . . . after I tell him."

"All right. I will get her. Would you like to speak with him in my study?"

"No. After I speak with Minerva, I will take him to her office." Not that he really believed that the setting was going to soften the blow, but Severus needed to get out of Dumbledore's immediate domain.

"Despite the circumstances, Severus," Dumbledore said, "I am glad that you are home. I have missed you."

Severus had no desire to say the same, and he did not. "Let's get Minerva up here," he said.

_##########_

Severus and Dumbledore waited in uncomfortable silence for Minerva. When she arrived, she knew immediately that something was wrong.

"He knows, Minerva."

Minerva's eyes flitted to the Headmaster before landing back on Severus. She'd been afraid of exactly this when she'd called Severus urgently this evening. She worried for one moment about the repercussions of her duplicity, then decided, _what the hell_? So Albus fired her. So Albus was angry with her or turned his back on her. He'd been wrong all those years ago. She and Severus had done the only thing possible given the circumstances. If she had to go back and do it all again, she wouldn't hesitate to make the same decision.

"We did what had to be done, Albus," she said, her chin high and her voice firm. "The boy's life was at risk."

"That is all water under the bridge, Minerva," Dumbledore said. He certainly didn't sound angry, Minerva thought. Perhaps he was so happy to have Harry and Severus back under his control that all had been forgiven.

"Where is Jamie?" she asked Severus.

"He is the next room. The Headmaster is insisting that he be told the truth. I plan to do it now. I wanted you to be aware, as he will likely be . . .upset and likely unwilling to stay in my company."

"I will be here for him. You know that," Minerva assured him. She turned on the Headmaster. "Albus, be reasonable. This news will greatly disturb Jamie. Isn't it better to leave things as they are. At least now, the world thinks that Harry Potter has gone missing. That includes You-Know-Who. Why reveal his identity now?"

"The boy must be told who he is," Dumbledore insisted. "He has a history and a heritage that he is entitled to."

"And a prophecy hanging over his head that may be the death of him," Severus growled.

"I still believe that has the right to know," Albus said firmly.

"And do you intend to tell him that I am responsible for his parents' deaths as well?" Severus asked.

Dumbledore considered him for a moment. "I will leave that particular truth to your discretion."

"How magnanimous of you. May I take him to your office, Minerva?" Severus asked.

"Of course. Would you like me to be present?"

"No. I need to do this myself. But if you could be there for him . . . after."

Minerva nodded, her heart broken by the misery on Rafe Carnaby's face, knowing that it was only going to get worse.

Severus gathered his courage and went to the door to retrieve his son. When he opened the door, Harry was immediately upon him. "What is going on? What did he mean about my heritage and . . . and revealing my identity?" He searched his father's face. "And what did you mean about my parents' deaths? I don't understand what's going on, Dad!"

Severus whirled on Albus. The old man had tricked him – he hadn't cast a silencing charm at all, and Harry had heard every word they'd said. "You bastard!" he spit at the Headmaster.

"Dad, please! What is going on?" Harry was near tears.

Severus turned back to his son. "Come with me, Jamie. I will explain everything."

##########

"What is going on, Dad?" Harry insisted as they settled in Minerva's office. He could tell something had upset his father. He'd studied the faces of the Headmaster and Aunt Minerva as he'd been led back through Dumbledore's office. He'd never seen Aunt Minerva looking so tense, but he couldn't really read the Headmaster's expression. It seemed to be part gleeful, part serious, part regretful, and it told him nothing. His father was practically humming with tension. And he'd called the Headmaster a bad name!

"Have I done something wrong? Is it the parseltongue thing? If it upsets people that much, I just won't ever do it again. I promise."

"No, Jamie, you haven't done anything wrong." Severus sat beside him on the sofa and took one of his hands between both of his own, much larger, hands. "There's something that I have to tell you, son. It's going to be very difficult for me to say, and it's going to be even more difficult for you to hear. I'd like, if you can manage it, for you to hear me out all the way through the end. I'll answer any questions you have. And before we begin, I want to say that I don't regret what I've done. Not one little bit. Everything I've done I did to keep you safe, and I would do it over again in a heartbeat. I love you, Jamie, more than anything. Do you know that?"

"Of course I do, Dad," Harry said earnestly. His eyes were wide, fear creeping into his gut. "You're scaring me, though. Whatever you've done, it couldn't possibly be that bad. Right?"

Severus let go of Harry's hand and pulled away from him. Where did he begin? How did he set about destroying the one he loved more than life itself? Severus drew in a deep breath and got the worst of it out there. "Jamie, I am not your father."

Harry waited for his dad to laugh at the admittedly not very funny joke, but laughter looked like the furthest emotion from what the man was feeling at the moment. "I . . . I don't understand. Of course you're my father. I've known you forever. We look just alike. Everyone says so."

"I will tell you the entire story. I knew your parents. I was very close to your mother when we were children. Your father and I didn't get along well at school, but I grew to respect him eventually. They were killed when you were very small. Your mother had a Muggle sister, and you were placed with her. She had a husband and a son about your age.

"They were not very pleased to have you with them, and I'm sorry to report that they treated you very unkindly. That is putting it very mildly, Jamie – they made you sleep in a cupboard, and worse, they hurt you. When you were four years old, they had a fire in their home. They evacuated the burning home and left you locked in the cupboard. They made no attempt to rescue you. None! Thankfully, firefighters found you and took you to safety.

"The authorities were called in. You were taken to a hospital and examined by Muggle doctors. They discovered that you had several broken bones that had never been treated. Some were fresh and some were years old. They'd obviously been seriously abusing you for some time.

"When I was told that you were going to be returned to their care, I . . . lost it, I guess you could say, and I grabbed you up and took you away. I established new identities for us and we have been living as Rafe and Jameson Carnaby ever since."

Harry's large blue eyes stared up at him. He looked as though he had been punched in the stomach.

"Breathe, Jamie," Severus urged, reaching out to place a hand on his son's shoulder. Harry flinched away, and Severus awkwardly dropped the hand back into his own lap.

"I don't . . . I can't . . . Why did you . . . Why didn't you tell me?"

"When? When could I have told you this and had you accept it? I would not be telling you now if the Headmaster hadn't found out and insisted that you know the truth."

"How did he find out?"

"This is where the story gets a little . . . complicated, Jamie."

"Wait – my name isn't Jamie, is it?"

"No, it's not. Nor is my name Rafe."

"So who am I, then?"

Severus sighed. "You are . . . your name is Harry Potter."

Harry's mouth literally fell open. He was _HARRY POTTER_? He'd learned about Harry Potter in History of Magic. Everyone knew the story of the little baby who'd survived You-Know-Who's killing curse, only to disappear completely from the face of the earth three years later. No. He couldn't be Harry Potter. That simply wasn't possible. Harry Potter was some mythical person who practically glowed with power. Jameson Carnaby was just . . . a boy, an average, not very powerful, not very smart boy who had lived all the life that he could remember with the same man, a man he loved, next door to his very best friend in the whole world. He had a dog and a cat, for crying out loud! Harry Potter probably had a . . . a . . . golden eagle and a dragon or something.

"That's not possible," he whispered. "I've heard of Harry Potter. He's famous. I'm . . . Jamie . . . just Jamie."

"I assure you, it is the truth. I wish it were not, but it is."

"But how is it that I look just like you? I've seen pictures of Harry Potter when he was a baby. I look nothing like him."

Harry was taking this remarkably well so far, Severus thought. He'd sat quietly through the news that Severus wasn't his father, and he was asking thoughtful, intelligent questions. "You are a wizard, Jamie. Can you think of a way in which you might look like someone you are not?"

"Well, it can't be polyjuice potion. You've never made me drink anything, and that only lasts an hour, right? A glamour?"

"Very good," Severus said with an approving nod. "Yes. I cast glamours on both of us when we first went away. They are permanent until I end them. Although apparently the Headmaster can as well. When he became suspicious – he cast his own spell that ended your glamour. He knows who you are."

"Would you end it now? I . . . I want to see what I really look like."

"Are you sure?"

Harry nodded. Severus reluctantly lifted his wand and ended the glamour. His son disappeared, and in his place sat Harry Potter. Severus conjured a mirror and handed it to the boy.

"I can't really see," Harry said, squinting at the mirror.

Severus conjured a pair of eyeglasses and handed those over as well. "Better?"

Harry put the glasses on and slowly raised the mirror. He stared at himself for a time, then raised a hand to his forehead, gently fingering the scar there. He studied his green eyes, so very different from the sky blue he was accustomed to seeing. He fingered his messy dark hair, such a contrast to the tamed blonde locks he combed every day. He looked up at his father, his eyes looking watery and oh, so lost.

"Jamie – "

"No," Harry interrupted. "Don't." He threw the mirror to the floor where it shattered into a hundred shards. "So who are you then?"

"My name is Severus Snape."

Another shock, as Harry certainly knew Severus Snape, the ugly, spiteful potions master who had made his life miserable for the last two years. "But . . . but he's my potions teacher."

"That is the Headmaster's doing. Another glamour, I assume. He was covering the fact that we disappeared at the same time, I think."

"Let's see you, then," Harry challenged.

"I'm not sure how that will help."

"Do it," Harry ordered, and Severus could see that the boy was getting angry now, an anger he'd been expecting all along and was surprised not to have seen yet.

"All right," Severus agreed, and he ended the glamour on himself. He nearly cried at the way Harry looked at him now – with extreme dislike and disgust.

"You look just like him!"

"But I am _not_ him!" Severus insisted, and he reinstalled the glamour. "_This_ is me! This is the man who raised you and loves you just as though you were born of my blood."

"No!" Harry said, tears falling freely now. "You are _not_ my father! You said so! Why did you do this?"

"I told you, Jamie. They were hurting you. Dumbledore was going to send you back to them, and I knew it was only a matter of time before they succeeded in killing you. I could not let that happen, not when it was within my power to prevent it."

"So you kidnapped me, changed the way I looked, changed my name. Now I can no longer be Jameson Carnaby, and I don't _want _to be Harry Potter! I don't!"

"As far as I am concerned, you can continue to be Jameson Carnaby for as long as you want."

"You think we can just go back like nothing has changed?!"

"It doesn't have to be different if we don't want it to be," Severus insisted somewhat desperately.

"Right! How can I ever trust anything you say ever again?"

"I won't lie to you, Jamie."

"Stop calling me that! And you already said you wouldn't even be telling me now if you weren't being forced."

"Because you're safer as Jamie Carnaby than as Harry Potter! I love you, Jamie! And I would do anything to protect you!"

"Yeah, I can see what lengths you'd go to. Thank God the Headmaster wanted me to know the truth!"

"The Headmaster wants to use you! He has never had your best interests at heart!"

"And _you_ have?!"

"Yes! Always! Voldemort is not dead, Jamie, and one day, he will return. When he does, you will have a target on your back. He will not stop until he rids himself of you. You are safer living in the world you have come from."

"The world I have come from – I have no idea what world I come from, do I?"

"I will answer any questions you have, Jamie."

"Then tell me what you meant when you said you were responsible for my parents being dead!"

Severus dropped his face into his hands. He really didn't want to confess this particular sin, but he knew he owed it to the boy. So he took a deep breath, gathered together all of his courage, and told the sad story of the young man who wanted to impress his new master so badly that he shared an overheard conversation which led to the death of a good friend and her husband and the orphaning of a young boy. "I have never regretted anything in my life more than I have that decision, Jamie," he finished.

"Stop calling me that!" Harry shouted, shaking with rage and grief. "That is _not_ my name! And you are _not _my father!" Harry jumped up and began to frantically pace back and forth. "I need to get out of here!"

"No," Severus said quickly. "You stay. I . . . I will go. I will go home. I will see you in a few days, though I will return sooner if you need me."

"I don't know if I'll be coming . . . home."

"Don't say that, Ja– Don't say that. Georgia and Skittles miss you."

"Don't – don't manipulate me like that." Harry was beginning to sob hysterically now.

"All right," Severus said soothingly. "I will go. Please, just calm down. And please, remember that I love you."

"Just go!" Harry screamed.

So Severus did, tears in his own eyes now. Minerva was hovering in the hallway, and when she tried to comfort him, Severus sent her in to be with Harry, who needed a shoulder far more.

##########

Harry had thrown himself onto the sofa and curled up tightly in a corner, his face pressed into his knees. Minerva sat beside him and placed a hand on his knee. "Jamie," she said softly.

"That's _not_ my name," he said.

"Maybe not, but it's who you are. Your father loves you, Jamie. You have to know that."

Harry lifted his tear-stained face. "He's not my father, is he?"

"Maybe not biologically," Minerva conceded, "but in every other way that matters, he is. I have seen him with you, and I know that he genuinely loves you."

"You knew, didn't you?" Harry accused. "You knew all along that it was all a lie, and you never said anything!"

"It wasn't my place to say anything. And I never saw the need. I agreed with everything your father did. In fact, I encouraged him to take you away."

"Stop calling him that," Harry ordered. "He's _not _my father."

"But he is, Mr. Carnaby. You can deny it all you like, but that man has been a father to you in every way possible."

"I want Hermione," Harry muttered, face back in his knees. "Can you get Hermione for me?"

"Miss Granger is sleeping, child."

"I want Hermione!" Harry wailed, back to the tears.

"All right," Minerva agreed. "I will get her. Will you be all right for a moment?"

Harry nodded but didn't lift his face.

##########

"Jamie! What's wrong?!" Hermione asked, dropping to her knees and putting her arms around her distraught friend. She looked up at Professor McGonagall, her eyes wide with concern.

"I am going to leave the two of you alone for a little bit. I will be in my quarters, right through that door, if you need me."

She left them, and the whole awful story came tumbling out of Harry's mouth. Hermione absorbed it all, listening and making sympathetic noises where appropriate. When he was finished, she sat on the floor beside the sofa, stunned.

"He's not your real father?"

"No," Harry said miserably.

"I can't believe this. And you're Harry Bloody Potter?"

Harry shook his head. "Apparently."

"Jiminy Cricket!" Hermione exclaimed. "I can't believe this! And _Severus Snape_ is your father?!"

Harry sat up, interested. "The real one. The one _we _know is a fake. Do you think he's lying?"

"Why would he do that? What possible reason could he have for lying to you about something like this? How did he react when he told you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did he seem upset?"

"Yes," Harry confessed. "He was almost crying when I told him to leave."

"So I doubt he would lie about this and risk losing you. He loves you, Jamie – I mean, Harry. Drat! What do you want me to call you?"

"I don't know. I don't want to be Harry Potter. I just want everything to be like it was yesterday, when I didn't know any of this stuff!"

"Well, that's not possible," Hermione said practically. "But to get back to what I was saying – he loves you. I can see that. And I think so can you." She added gently.

"My whole life is a lie, Hermione! What do I do now?" And Harry was back to the anger and tears. Hermione reached over and rubbed his back, but Harry didn't calm. Making a decision that she needed reinforcements, Hermione got to her feet and knocked on her professor's door.

##########

Hermione had returned to Harry's side and had unsuccessfully tried to calm him. It seemed like forever until the door to Minerva's office opened and her Head of House escorted her mother into the room.

Hermione jumped up. "Mum! Thank goodness you're here! I can't get him to calm down. Did Professor McGonagall tell you – "

"She filled me in," Annabelle said. She ran a comforting hand through her daughter's hair, then sat beside Harry. "Jamie, honey. Come here."

Without looking up, Harry turned into Annabelle's embrace and climbed into her lap. Annabelle gathered him into her arms and cradled him, stroking his hair and rocking him gently. "Shhhh," she crooned over and over.

"Hello, Ms. Pilkington," Hermione said, looking at the woman curiously. What was _she_ doing here?

"Hello, Hermione," she said with a weak smile. "I wish you'd call me Connie." Seeing the girl's look of confusion, she continued, "Your mother and I were having a girls' night when Minerva contacted her. She said that Rafe – that Rafe –" She couldn't continue, and Hermione realized that the news of the Carnabys' real identities had come as a shock to this woman as well. The man she loved was not who she thought he was, and that had to be shattering news to her as well.

Hermione smiled encouragingly, then looked at Minerva for help. She felt way out of her depth here.

Minerva went to sit beside Harry and Annabelle on the sofa, and soon after, Harry got his emotions under control and lay with his head on Annabelle's chest, sniffing softly. He looked around the room through red-rimmed eyes and spotted Constance. "Connie!" he said, surprised to see her. "Did – did you know?"

"No, love. I didn't know. Are you all right?"

"Not really," Harry said miserably. "I feel like everything I ever knew about myself has been a lie."

"I understand completely," Constance assured him.

Harry slid off of Annabelle's lap and approached Connie. He threw his spindly arms around her waist and held her tight. "You were supposed to be my mum!" he said into her belly.

Connie's arms went around Harry, and she hugged him back. "I know," she said. "I was so looking forward to that."

Minerva had heard enough. "All right," she said, her tone brisk and commanding. "No one is going to make any life-altering decisions tonight. What you're both going to do," she said, indicating Harry and Connie, "is sit down and listen to me."

Connie and Harry exchanged a glance, then went to sit on the sofa, side by side, holding hands. Hermione settled beside Harry, holding his other hand, and Annabelle sat in the chair before the fire.

Minerva had a folder in her hand, and she handed it to Harry. "Look inside," she instructed.

Harry set the folder in his lap and wiped his nose with this sleeve. He scrubbed at the drying tears on his cheeks, then opened the folder and removed a sheaf of papers. He looked down at them but didn't really comprehend what he was seeing. The papers were stamped with the name of a hospital and contained his name – his _real_ name. They were dated several years past. "What is this?"

"This," said Minerva, "is the record of a visit you made to a hospital when you were four years old. Your family's home sustained damage from a fire on that day. They escaped the house without injury. You they left locked inside a cupboard under the stairs. This cupboard is where you lived, Jamie."

"I know about the fire," Harry said. "Dad – _he _told me."

"The authorities brought you to the hospital because they were understandably concerned about a child who had been left by his family in such circumstances. You were thoroughly examined. If you look at the final page, you will see the list of injuries identified during the testing process."

Harry flipped to the last page of the physician's report and read aloud the list contained there. "Hairline skull fracture, fractured zygomatic bone, spiral fractures of both humerus, fractured radius, four fractured digits on the left hand, and fractured intermediate cuneiform; multiple bruises over the body; and several burns, mostly on the hands."

By the end of the list, Hermione and Constance had tears in their eyes. "Oh, Jamie," Connie said. "What did they do to you?"

"I – I don't know. I really don't remember them. I can remember that I lived with someone else before Dad – before _he _came and got me, but I really don't remember them or any specifics of what happened when I was with them. Sometimes I have nightmares where I'm a little kid and someone is trying to catch me and hurt me, but I thought they were just nightmares."

Hermione squeezed his hand, and when Harry met her eyes, he smiled encouragingly at her. She looked so sad!

"Knowing this," Minerva went on, "knowing how they had hurt you and left you to die in that cupboard, Albus was going to send you back to them. He intended to obliviate the rescue personnel who assisted you and the doctors and nurses who treated you at the hospital and return you to the Dursleys. Several of us made arguments against this plan. It seemed obvious that one day, they would hurt you seriously enough to actually kill you. Dumbledore would not be persuaded. He claimed that there were blood wards in place that would protect you and that there was no place safer for you. And we all disagreed with him, but we all went along with his plan. All except Severus Snape."

Minerva paused for a moment to let that sink in. "Not the Severus Snape you know as your potions master, Jamie. The _real_ Severus Snape. He was the _only_ one willing to do what had to be done to keep you safe. He left his life behind to take you away, out of Dumbledore's reach. He left his job and his home and everything that he knew, for you. He risked prison. If he was found, he would likely have been sent straight to Azkaban."

Harry looked up at her, his eyes filled with concern. "Could he still be sent to prison?"

"I don't know, Jamie," Minerva confessed. "I don't know what Dumbledore plans to do. But it is a possibility, yes."

"I don't want him to go to prison," Harry said softly.

"What I'm trying to make you understand, Jamie, is how much your father loves you. He sacrificed everything for you because he loves you. I know that you are upset and confused and angry. No one blames you for that. But your father . . . your father loves you, and he is sitting at home alone, despondent, because he thinks that you hate him."

"I don't h-hate him," Harry gulped, tearing starting again. "I was angry. I didn't understand. I still don't, not completely, and I still feel really angry. But I know that he loves me. He's my dad."

Minerva smiled. "I'm so glad to hear you say that."

"I need to see him," Harry said.

"Would you like to go home? I think, under the circumstances, that allowances can be made," Minerva offered.

"No. Can you ask him to come here? I think we need to confront the Headmaster, find out what he intends to do." He turned to Constance. "Will you stay with me? Can you forgive him?"

Constance pulled Harry into a side hug. "I understand why he did what he did. I can't blame him for trying to protect you. Do I wish that he'd taken me into his confidence? Of course I do. But I can't fault a man for sacrificing himself for a boy he loves. I can only admire that courage and commitment. Let's talk to your father, hear what he has to say for himself."

Harry looked around at these women, these amazing, strong women who meant so much to him: his best friend, his aunt, the only mother he'd ever known, and the woman he hoped would become his future mother. He was surrounded by women he loved, but he needed his dad. "Can you get him, Aunt Minerva?"

##########

Severus had been brooding on the sofa since he'd returned home earlier in the evening, a glass of Scotch clutched loosely in his hand. It had been his intention to imbibe to the point of oblivion, but he'd found himself unable to even muster the energy to raise his hand to his mouth. He was going to lose Harry – his son, the boy he loved more than his own life, the boy he had cared for at sacrifice to his own life and ambitions. He'd managed to outfox Dumbledore for eight years, but the old man had finally caught up with him. Before the Headmaster was done with them, he'd be in Azkaban and Harry would likely despise him and want nothing further to do with him.

Severus was shocked out of his depression by Minerva's voice in his floo. "Severus? Are you there?"

Severus got quickly to his feet and dropped to his knees on the hearth. "Yes, of course, I'm here. Is Jamie all right?"

"He's fine. He wants to talk to you. Will you come through?"

"Of course."

In his eagerness, Severus forgot that he was holding a glass, and he took it through the floo with him. He looked around the room in disbelief: Annabelle Granger and her daughter, Minerva, Harry and Constance – _Constance! _– all stared back at him. Constance – what was he going to tell her? In his angst at his relationship with Harry falling to pieces, he'd forgotten about his girlfriend and how she was going to feel about his betrayal. But right now, his focus was on his son.

"You are all here," he said rather stupidly, giving Minerva the impression that the glass in his hand wasn't his first. She tactfully removed the glass from his unprotesting grip and set it aside.

The moment Severus stepped out of the hearth, Harry's anger welled up inside him again. He loved this man, of that there was no doubt, but he was _so _angry with him for unsettling the happy little world in which he lived. He stalked across the room to where his father stood .

Severus could see the anger in his boy's eyes, and he girded himself for the rejection he thought he was about to face. He had no idea how all of these people had been dragged into this, and he could tell from a quick glance at Constance that he had a lot of explaining to do if he was going to save that relationship. He refocused his attention on the child in front of him.

"I am so angry with you," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"I know."

"You had no right to keep this from me. No right at all. And you killed my parents!"

Severus could argue his justification until the cows came home blue in the face, but in the end, Harry was correct. "You're right."

"I don't know how to stop being angry," Harry said, and tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes.

Severus thought he knew what the boy needed, and he reached out and pulled Harry into his embrace. Harry wasn't quite ready for it, though, and he fought back, his small fists pummeling Severus' chest as he cried out, "Let me go! Let me go!" But Severus held on, gently cradling the boy against him and absorbing the blows that got weaker and weaker as Harry's will to punish his father diminished until, finally, he was just a sobbing mess in his father's arms.

Severus closed his eyes and held Harry tight, thankful that his boy had come back to him.

When Harry finally quieted in his arms, Severus pushed him away and looked down at the tear-stained face. "I am sorry, Jamie. I never wanted you to be hurt in any way. I love you."

Harry sighed deeply. " I know. And I love you, too. And I don't care what anyone says – you're my dad. And I'll hex anyone who says differently," he said fiercely. "Including the Headmaster."

Severus pulled Harry close again and looked over at Constance. He tried a tentative smile and was rewarded with an answering smile. He held an arm out to her, and she joined in the family hug. They stayed that way for a bit, then Severus pulled away. "I want to explain."

"Aunt Minerva told us everything," Harry said. "We can talk about it if you want, but I think I understand why you did it. It still hasn't sunk in yet, the fact that I'm Harry Potter, but I don't question why you took me away. You saved me." Harry shot a sideways glance at Constance. "Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked his father. "Privately?"

"Of course," Severus said, and he drew the boy away from the others. Harry looked very serious, and Severus went to one knee to put them on the same level. "What is it?"

Harry looked over at Constance again, to make sure they were far enough away not to be overheard. "She forgives you," he whispered.

Severus couldn't help it – he looked over at Constance.

"Don't look at her!" Harry whispered harshly. "She'll know we're talking about her."

"She forgives me?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "She's a little angry, but she understands, too."

"I am – heartened to hear that," Severus said, still wondering where this was going.

Harry's voice lowered even further. "I was wondering – um what your – er intentions were, regarding Connie."

"My intentions?" Severus asked with an eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Yeah. Your intentions," Harry restated with a bold look back at his father. "Do you want to marry her?"

"Well," Severus spluttered, "I think that's something I should discuss with her first, don't you?"

"No," Harry stated. "I would have thought you'd learned better than to make a major life decision before consulting me. Now, answer the question, please."

Severus stared at the bold little creature his son had turned into. "I had thought that . . . perhaps after the holidays . . . that she and I might have a discussion about . . . about our future. I was going to speak with you about it when you were home for Christmas."

"Good," Harry said with a pleased nod. "Do you have a ring?"

"As a matter of fact, I do have a ring," Severus confessed. He'd been Christmas shopping for Constance, and something had drawn him into a jewelry store, and when he'd seen one particular ring, he'd known – known that it was perfect for Constance, that she was perfect for him, that she would be so good for Harry.

"Go get it," Harry ordered.

Now the eyebrow was raised in anything but amusement. "What has gotten into you that you think you can order me around as though I were your house elf?"

Harry brought out the puppy-dog eyes. "Please," he said. "Please go get it."

Severus released a sigh that blew up the ends of his hair. "What are you planning, you pestilential child?"

"Please?"

Severus climbed slowly to his feet and without a word to anyone, vanished into the floo. Harry smiled awkwardly at everyone in the room while he waited, shuffling his feet nervously.

When Severus reappeared only a minute or so later, he again went to Harry. "I have it, my lord," he said with a sarcastic little bow.

Harry ignored his facetiousness. "Can I see it?"

Severus reached into his pocket and removed the ring, handing it to Harry in such a way that no one else knew what he held.

Harry looked down at the large sparkling diamond. "It's beautiful," he breathed.

"I'm so happy it meets with your approval. May I have it back?" he asked imperiously, holding out his hand. The ring had cost him approximately one-half year's salary, and he wanted it tucked safely back away as soon as possible.

Harry closed his hand around the ring. "Nope," he said, and he marched over to where Connie was sitting on the sofa. He went to one knee beside her. "Connie, will you marry us?" he asked, holding the ring out toward her.

Connie gasped and covered her mouth with a hand. Her wide eyes went to Severus, who smiled in rather a strained manner. This is not how he'd envisioned proposing to Constance. In his daydreams, they were alone, perhaps at a romantic restaurant, dressed formally as befitting such a momentous occasion, and _alone_. Severus was a private man, and he'd have preferred to take this step in private. But the deal was done now, thanks to his annoying son.

Struck by the fact that not only did Harry consider himself still to be Severus' son, but he wanted Constance to be part of their family, Severus swallowed down his irritation that this hadn't gone exactly the way he'd planned. He thought he probably ought to make himself part of this equation, and he went to kneel beside Harry. "Constance?" he asked.

Still unable to speak, Connie nodded behind her hand. Severus took the ring from Harry's hand and took Constance's left hand in his own. He slid the ring onto her finger, and she looked down at it with tears in her eyes.

Connie dropped to her knees, so that now they were all in the same position, and, crying earnestly, drew her two boys into a tight hug. Harry withstood this treatment for as long as he could, then disentangled himself, leaving the adults to finish up the affection. He stood looking down at both of them, immensely pleased with himself.

Finally becoming aware that they were the center of attention, Severus pulled away from Constance and got to his feet. He offered his girlfriend – his fiance! – his hand and pulled her up. Taking a deep breath for fortification, he turned to face the others, all of whom had tears on their cheeks and an affectionate look in their eyes. Women!

"Congratulations," Minerva said, coming to hug both of them. The Granger women followed suit, with even Hermione hugging Severus around the waist.

"Good," Harry said. "That's settled. Now, shall we go see the Headmaster?"

##########

Harry and Severus approached Dumbledore's office nervously. The Headmaster had the power to send Severus away for a very long time. Harry knocked timidly at the door, and when they were bade to enter, they exchanged a look before venturing in.

"Ah, Harry and Severus," the Headmaster said, rising from his chair. "What brings the two of you up here so late in the evening?"

"We wondered what you intended to do, Headmaster," Harry said boldly.

"'Do'?" Dumbledore repeated. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"About my dad. Because he took me away."

Dumbledore peered at Harry over this half-moon spectacles. "What Severus has done is kidnapping under the law. He took you away from the guardians who had every right by law to have custody of you."

"They were hurting me!" Harry protested. "He took me away to save me!"

"You are young, Harry," the Headmaster said, his tone placating. "You cannot possibly understand all of the circumstances. There were considerations that had to be taken into account. Your safety was of the utmost importance."

"I understand that those people were hurting me, _deliberately _hurting me, and you were going to continue to let them. Dad saved me. He's given me a good life."

They were interrupted by the office door being flung open by Minerva. She marched into Dumbledore's lair, followed by the Grangers (all three of them), Constance, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Professors Sprout and Sinistra, Madams Hooch and Pomfrey, Arthur and Molly Weasley, and Rubeus Hagrid. The three who were already in the office looked equally confused about why this merry band was here.

Minerva made short work of their confusion. "We are here to support Rafe Carnaby and his son and to make you aware that if you try to interfere with their relationship, we will all be most unhappy, and we will fight you in every manner at our disposal," she announced.

"Minerva," Dumbledore said, sound affronted. "What is the meaning of this?"

"You heard me," she stated. "I supported Severus Snape's decision to abscond with young Harry Potter, and I've supported Rafe Carnaby in his attempts to make a life with his son, Jamie, ever since. They are _good_ together, they love and support each other, and Harry Potter is alive today because of what Severus Snape did eight years ago."

"Harry Potter is very important to the future of our world," Dumbledore countered. "You know this." He turned to take in the other people in this room. "You _all_ know this."

"That may be true," Minerva agreed. "But he stands a much better chance of doing what needs to be done if he has the support of a loving family. Of _this _man," she said, indicating Severus, "and of _this_ woman," here she pointed to Constance.

"Thank you, Aunt Minerva," Harry said. Minerva ran a hand affectionately through Harry's hair.

Harry turned to Dumbledore. "Headmaster, my parents were taken away from me a long time ago, and there's nothing I can do about that now. But I have a family now, one that I've put together. We're kind of like a . . ." Harry searched for an appropriate metaphor. ". . . like a patchwork quilt. There's a square for Dad, and one for Aunt Minerva. Each of the Grangers have one. And Hagrid. And all the Weasleys. I'm right in the middle. I'd like it if there was a square on there for you, too, Headmaster," Harry said shyly. "But if you take my dad away from me, I will not be able to trust you."

Dumbledore stared down at Harry for a moment before looking up at the others in the room. He could see that Harry was earnest in his belief, and he also believed that everyone in this room would throw their support behind Severus, and not Dumbledore, if he pushed the issue. So he cut his losses.

"I have no intention of taking your father away from you, Harry," Dumbledore said, and the mood in the room lightened considerably. "However, we cannot go back to the way things were before. Our world needs Harry Potter, and now that you have returned, I will not allow you to hide any longer. I will not call in the authorities, but you will agree to return to your real identities, both of you."

Harry and Severus looked at each other, and quickly made their decision. They nodded at the headmaster.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands. "Now that the real Severus Snape has returned to us, you will surely want to resume your post as potions master."

"Albus, I have no intention . . ."

"Severus," Minerva interrupted. "You will want to be as close to the boy as you can, will you not?" she pointed out. "What better way than to be here in the castle with him?"

Severus saw the wisdom of this argument, and as much as he hated the thought of returning to teach here, under the thumb of the Headmaster, he nodded once at Dumbledore. And then he caught an armful of boy as Harry jumped up into his arms, squeezing his neck with his spindly arms and wrapping his legs around Severus' waist. "I love you, Dad," Harry whispered into his neck.

Severus folded his arms tightly around the boy. This, what he held in his arms right now, was worth whatever additional sacrifices he had to make, and he would make them with a smile upon his face. Well, maybe not with a smile, but he would make them, for love of this boy.

And this is . . . The End

45


End file.
